The Name Of The Game
by XJerseyGirl
Summary: The Name of the Game Sequel to As the Worm Turns, Steph and Ranger's Happily Ever After...or is it? Babe Fic, Joe friendly.
1. Prologue: CandyLand

_Disclaimer: All characters belong to Janet Evanovich_

_Warnings: Graphic Smut, All 12 Books_

_A/N: To Karen and Christie for editing, inspiration, laughter, and listening to me bitch, Muchas Gracias, amigas! Without you I'd still be hiding under my desk! I'm still a Review Slut, so please read and review! I hope you enjoy!_

The Name of The Game

By: Stayce (XJerseyGirl)

Prologue: CandyLand!

Sometimes life offered us that one opportunity to have it all. It was the moment when everything in your universe clicked into place, and by the grace of God, or whatever you believed in, all was right in your world. This was his moment. They were laying in their bed ... THEIR bed, having shared an orgasm so earthshaking that neither of them could move. He was lying on top of her, his face close to hers, their lips almost touching, and they were sharing every breath.

Without opening his eyes, he brushed his lips back and forth over hers, nibbling at them, feeling her smile under his mouth. Her hands were in his hair and she scraped her nails across his scalp. The edges of his mouth turned up into a smile and he made a small, 'Ummm' sound before he whispered, "God Almighty, Woman. I think you're trying to kill me." He gave a small laugh before he lowered his mouth to hers and kissed her, long and slow and soft.

It occurred to him that until he made love with Stephanie Plum, he had never laughed when he was in bed with a woman. Sex had always been a bodily function, enjoyable and physically satisfying, but not emotionally fulfilling. He had never smiled or laughed more in his life than he had in this last month. He was constantly amazed at the emotions this little white bread girl from the 'Burg could make him feel.

'Make him feel.' That's exactly what she did for him ... to him. She made him feel.

He had spent most of his adulthood trying to escape feeling anything. He always believed that being a slave to your feelings, to your emotions, made you lose your focus on the goal. He had focused on the goal to the exclusion of almost everything else. His focus had been so sharp that now, when he looked back, he came to the conclusion that he had an existence, but not a life. He had made a name for himself, he had acquired success, he had money, he had things …

Then Stephanie walked into that little cafe downtown. Initially, he had viewed her as a momentary distraction. Connie had called in a favor and he was a man of his word. No doubt that he could teach Stephanie what she needed to know. But was she willing to learn or was this just another middle class white girl who wanted a walk on the wild side? Wanted to play with the bad boys, maybe get laid and go back and tell her girlfriends all about it? Turned out that Stephanie Plum was a force of nature that rocked his world like nothing he had ever encountered before.

When he thought about it, Ranger realized that he probably started to fall for her when she called him to unlock her from her shower rod. He found her wet, cold, embarrassed, and furious. What should have been her ultimate humiliation only served to fuel the fire in her belly to catch the guy who did that to her. And she did, too. Against all the odds, and just using her natural abilities, she had brought in a seasoned police detective, and the urban legend of the Bombshell Bounty Hunter was born.

In the beginning she was absolutely set up for failure. There was no way she could succeed. She had no training in weapons or techniques, she was scared to death of her own gun, and had no clue what bounty hunting was even about. But what she lacked in skill, she made up for in guts. She had the tenacity of a pit bull, and the sixth sense of a gypsy fortuneteller. And she always got her man!

He smiled to himself as he nuzzled her face and neck, inhaling her unique scent. Rolling to the side, he brought her soft warm body with him and reached down to pull the blankets up over them both. She snuggled into him as he wrapped her in his arms, her curly head tucked under his chin. He let his hands run up and down her back as they lay there, savoring the moment.

To think that he had almost let himself miss out on this. He had lived a goal-oriented life, learning from his mistakes, building on his successes, meeting his obligations. He had worked hard and was proud of what he had accomplished. Now though, it all seemed a little hollow, a little superficial and empty compared to what Stephanie brought into the mix. And what was that? Flavor? Zest? It finally dawned on him and he snorted a laugh at the irony of Steph, the 'Burg girl, bringing 'The Spice of Life' to the Cuban.

He pulled back just a little so that he could look down at her, her beautiful aquamarine eyes closed, her fingers drifting back and forth over his chest and she gave a little sigh of contentment. In the end, it all came down to one thing: Stephanie Plum _always _got her man … including him. He had to smile when he thought about it. She had chased him until he caught her. Thank God!

For her part, Stephanie never thought that she would ever feel like this. She had loved before, and she was sure that she had been loved before as well. But this was different from anything she had ever experienced. Just the way he looked at her made her heart swell and brought tears to her eyes. If she could just stay here in his arms forever, she thought, with his warm hands running slow circles on her back, she would always feel safe and secure and free from self-doubt.

She tipped her head back to look up at him and he smiled down into her eyes. "What are you thinking about, Babe?" His voice was soft and warm as they basked in the afterglow of their lovemaking.

What was she thinking about? How do you tell someone that they've changed your life? Stephanie had always known that she had been a huge disappointment to her mother. She had never really fit into the Plum family or the 'Burg. She had always known that she was the proverbial square peg and that she was different from everyone else. Life was a little lonely always being on the outside looking in. For a little girl and a young woman, that wasn't a comfortable place to be. In a world where conformity meant acceptance and acceptance was everything, Stephanie traded that security for her independence.

Now, by some miracle, she found herself lying here with this man who claimed that he loved her just the way she was. Everyone else in her world had tried to change her into their idea of what she should be. Her mother wanted her to be the perfect example of a Burg wife and mother, a clone of herself. Dickie had wanted a trophy wife, arm candy who would help his political career and turn a blind eye to his infidelity. Morelli wanted her to settle down and become his ideal wife with a safe little part time job at the local Hallmark store, home in time to have his dinner on the table.

And now here was this man, this wonderful, marvelous, delicious man who only wanted her to be herself. This was a man who loved her, all of her … imperfections, character flaws, foibles and all. 'How do I tell him,' she thought, 'that for the first time in my life, I'm not afraid to be Stephanie Plum.'

She reached up and placed her palm against his cheek, brushing her thumb across his lips. "I'm thinking about how happy I am."

He loosened his grip on her and slid down the bed so that they were eye to eye. Pushing her wild curls out of her face, he let his hand drift down her neck and over her shoulder, down her arm to her hand. He wound his fingers into hers and brought her hand to his lips, then wrapped her arm around his neck, bringing her body against his.

Ranger nuzzled the side of her face and neck, trailing kisses across her shoulder, then rolled her onto her back. Settling himself between her legs, he supported himself on his forearms, as he slipped his arms under her back, curling his fingers over her shoulders.

He looked down into Stephanie's wide blue eyes and took a breath before he spoke. "I never expected to be happy. Maybe it's because of all the things I've seen and done in my life. Maybe I thought I didn't deserve it. Whatever the reason, I never thought I'd be happy. But right now, if you asked me to describe myself in one word, that's what it would be … happy." He brushed his mouth over hers and whispered, "Thank you, Babe," against her lips.

The man of few words had made a speech and it brought the sting of tears to Stephanie's eyes. There was something so seductive about him sharing his feelings with her that it was like an aphrodisiac. Not that she needed one where he was concerned. She had never known passion like this before, this primal need she had for him. The constant desire for his hands or his mouth to touch her, for the feel of him moving inside of her, was almost overpowering. And by happy coincidence, she thought, his desire for her was practically insatiable.

When he lowered his head and captured her lips, she fisted her hands in his hair, holding him to her. The kiss that started slow and sweet soon became hungry and demanding. Their tongues danced and tangled and they broke apart breathlessly.

Steph trailed kisses along his jaw and down his neck. He groaned, at the sensations and arched his head back, exposing more of his throat. When she reached the scar left by Scrog's bullet, she feathered kisses over that still sensitive spot, sending a shiver through him. Every time she saw that scar, she immediately went back to that moment in her apartment; to how close she had come to losing him. Scrog, and then Stella, had almost destroyed their chance of a life together.

She pulled back to meet his eyes and she knew that he was reading her thoughts. Ranger smiled at her, then he trailed wet kisses down her throat to the tender flesh at the spot where her neck met her shoulder. Her fingers flexed into the muscles of his back as he laved the skin, running hypnotic circles with the tip of his tongue. A small cry escaped her and her nails bit into him as he sucked the sweet flesh into his mouth, marking her as his.

He scraped his teeth over her collarbone and the swell of her breast. His arms under her back raised her up so that her breast touched his mouth and he brushed his lips over the nipple, teasing it, feeling it pebble from the attention. He sipped at it gently, then sucked it firmly into his mouth. Steph gasped and arched her back, offering more of herself to him. He kissed his way to her other breast and captured that nipple, torturing it in the same way.

He nipped and kissed his way down over her ribs and dipped his tongue into her navel and swirled it around. Grazing his teeth over the skin on her belly, he finally settled between her legs. She moaned when his tongue found her center and she sobbed when he slid first one finger, and then another into her.

He made love to her with his mouth. He brought her to the edge, then backed away to bring her down, only to bring her to the edge once again. She writhed under his tender assault, hands fisted in his hair, panting and begging him for release. He thought about how long he had denied himself the pleasure of making love to this woman.

He had thought that their one night together would satisfy his craving for her, realizing afterward that he was an idiot. Instead, that one taste had haunted him, as he lay alone at night in his bed. All it had served to do was to whet his appetite for her all the more. What had possessed him to send her back to Morelli? Then Scrog had come close to ending any chance he had of making up for turning his back on her and walking out of her bedroom. He swore to himself that he would never leave her again.

Ranger finally took pity on her and she came calling his name, bucking against him. He stayed with her as she came down, nuzzling her and kissing her thighs. She pulled him back up her body and she kissed him, tasting herself on his mouth. They lay in a tangle of arms and legs while her breathing and heart rate returned to normal.

Steph rose up on one elbow and studied the man lying next to her. She looked at the silky black hair, his eyelashes fanned out on his cheekbones, his muscular body covered by satin skin, cobbled abs, narrow hips, and long legs. He was so physically beautiful, and yet the more she learned about him, the more sure she was that his character was as handsome as his perfect body.

She leaned over and feathered kisses over his forehead, eyelids, cheekbones, and chin. Touching the corner of his mouth with the tip of her tongue, he opened his lips to her. He reached up and cupped the back of her head as she angled hers to deepen the kiss and when she sucked on his tongue, she was rewarded by a groan that came from deep in his chest.

Kissing him right below his ear she trailed open-mouthed kisses down his neck and over his shoulder. Stephanie sat up and pushed him onto his back, straddling him. He immediately grabbed her hips, trying to maneuver her so that he could enter her. She took his hands and pressed them onto the bed, letting him know she wanted him to keep them there. Laughing softly she smiled down into his half-open eyes and she shook her head, "Nuh-unh, Carlos. You made me beg. Now it's your turn."

Stephanie kissed him deeply, slowly, erotically, breaking the kiss only to trail more along his jaw. She leaned down and brushed her nipples back and forth over his chest, then pressed her breasts against him as she ran her tongue down his neck to lave the hollow at the bottom of his throat. He groaned as she ran wet kisses and licks along his collarbone. She blew on the wet trail and felt a shudder pass through his body.

She made small wet circles with the tip of her tongue, on that sweet spot where his neck and his shoulder joined. When she sucked the skin into her mouth, she swore he purred and arched his neck. She marked him, the same way he had marked her, hard and deep.

Scraping her nails lightly over his nipples, she felt him shiver as she slid down his body to suck and nip at them. He moaned while she ran wet kisses down his stomach and his muscles instinctively clinched as she outlined his abs with her tongue. When she French kissed his navel, dipping in her tongue and swirling it around, he tangled his hands into her hair and tried to pull her up to his mouth.

She immediately stopped her sweet torture and sat up. "No hands, Carlos. I told you, it's my turn to play." He groaned loudly, in mock frustration, but moved his hands back to the mattress.

His breathing changed as she nibbled her way from his navel, and when she sank her teeth into his hipbone, his hands fisted in the sheets. She felt him, rock hard, under her as she moved further down his body, nuzzling the line of silky black hair that ran like an arrow between his navel and his thick shaft.

She trailed little nips and licks across the tops of his thighs and as she positioned herself between his legs, he twitched in anticipation. Finally, she wrapped her fingers around him and stroked the length of him with a feather light touch. He growled, deep in his chest, making an almost painful sound. Barely touching him, she scraped her nails over him then continued to move her fingers up and down his shaft with agonizing slowness.

He shivered when he felt her hair brush against his skin as she lowered her head and his eyes locked on her mouth as she wet her lips. Ranger held his breath as she grasped the base of his shaft and slowly licked the length of him again and again. The tip of her tongue teased him as she delicately touched the drop of pre cum that had formed on the slit.

While she stroked him with one hand, she cupped his balls with the other and massaged him firmly. His breathing became ragged as she scraped her nails over him, torturing him, pushing to find the limits of his self-control.

They never broke eye contact as she finally lowered her head and took him into her hot mouth. She sucked gently, then stroked her tongue over the slit and swirled it around the length of him.

His hands fisted the sheets when she took as him as far as she could into her mouth and when she made an "Mmmmmm" sound his hips lifted off the bed. She sucked him firmly, sometimes scraping her teeth up his shaft to suck on the head, changing rhythm whenever he seemed close to coming.

By now Ranger's head was shifting from side to side and he was muttering in Spanish, either blessing her or cursing her.

Finally, when she was sure he'd had enough, she increased the pressure and speed of her movements, sucking and stroking him as he passed the limits of his control.

No longer able to restrain himself, he wound his fingers into her hair as he thrust into her mouth. He ground out her name as he lifted his hips and came. She stayed with him, milking him until he was empty.

He lay there, slack-limbed and breathing hard, like he had run a race, as she slid back up the bed to lie next to him. Dragging his eyes open he managed to give her a small smile before he ran his hands over his face. He licked his lips and said with a laugh, "I don't think there's any blood left in my brain."

He turned on his side and wrapping his still shaking arms around her, he pulled her close and kissed her on the tip of her nose. They lay there, wrapped in each other, until his aftershocks had passed.

She shifted away from him slightly. "Come on, let's go take a shower and get some sleep. Tomorrow it's back to real life."

He barked a laugh and turned his head to look at her. "I couldn't walk now if the building was on fire. My brain hasn't reassigned enough cells to replace the ones that you just killed off. You're VERY talented."

"Well, thank you, sir, but I'm sure I can get even better with practice." His only response was a growl.

She arranged the blankets over them and he tipped her chin up to look into her smiling eyes and shook his head a little. It was amazing, he thought as they snuggled together, all the things she had brought to his life in these past few weeks and how much he had learned from her.

He ran his hand up her spine, finding the pearl that had slid around to the back of the chain. Tugging it gently around to the front, he placed it between her breasts. From the day he dropped the heavy gold chain around her neck, she had never taken it off. He told her then that the chain had no clasp, it was a circle, it had no beginning and no end. For him, it meant forever. For her, it was the only ring she would ever need.

They were happy and they were in love.

They had been together for one month, 4 days, 16 hours, and fifty-one minutes.

TBC …

_Ranger and Steph had a great vacation, but they missed all of your wonderful reviews. They're also wondering if there's too much smut and if they should tone it down. So please leave a review and let them know what you think. Thanks!_


	2. The Sims!

_**Disclaimer: All characters belong to Janet Evanovich**_

_**Warnings: Smut, All 12 Books**_

_**A/N: To Karen and Christie for editing, inspiration, laughter, and listening to me bitch, Muchas Gracias, amigas! Without you I'd still be hiding under my desk! I'm still a Review Slut, so please read and review! I hope you enjoy!**_

**The Name of The Game**

**By: Stayce (XJerseyGirl)**

**Chapter 1: The Sims!**

Stephanie woke up to his mouth laying soft, warm kisses on her shoulder. He knew how much she hated her alarm clock, as evidenced by the large numbers of them that had met their untimely demise against her bedroom wall. He made sure that she never had to wake up to one when she spent the night with him.

She smiled and buried her face in the pillow as he lifted her hair and kissed the back of her sensitive neck, sending delicious shivers through her. Stretching out her arms, she arched her back and wiggled her butt, raising it up off the bed a little bit. Just for his benefit, of course.

He let out a long, low growl and she felt him shift on the bed. She squealed when he playfully sank his teeth into her butt cheek and then kissed the same spot.

"You're a witch, a bruja, you know that don't you? You have me under your spell." He massaged her cheeks as he spoke, and then laid a trail of kisses up her spine.

Steph giggled. "Well, at least my butt does."

"You know I love your ass." He pulled her on top of him and ran his hands down her back to massage her cheeks as she kissed him slow and deep.

"Actually," she murmured against his lips, "you're no slouch in that department yourself, Mr. Buns of Steel. Although, I'm awfully partial to your Abs of Steel, too. It's a tough choice which one is my favorite part of your body."

"Oh Babe," his voice was laced with laughter, "I don't think either one of those qualifies as your favorite part of my body."

She swatted him playfully, then laid her head on his shoulder and nuzzled the side of his face and neck. "If you promise to wake me up like this every morning," she said in her best sultry voice, "I may have to move in with you after all."

"We've talked about it before, Babe," he said, suddenly serious. "You know that I want you to move in. We spend almost every night together, either here or at your place. I know that having your own space is important to you, but I want you here at home with me."

She planted a kiss on his lips, then sat up and straddled him, resting her hands on his chest. _How do I make him understand_, she wondered as she studied his handsome face. _The only stuff I own in the whole world is in that apartment. Sure, nothing matches, it's all cheap, there's nothing valuable, nothing I can't live without, but it's mine. I mean, the Salvation Army might be happy to get it, I know sure as hell nobody else would, but it stands for something. It says that I don't need anybody to take care of me; I can stand on my own two feet._

An idea struck her. She got up out of bed and grabbed Ranger by the hand, dragging him out of the bedroom and down the hall to the front door. Turning him around, she pushed his back against the door and leaned against it next to him. He wondered what she was up to. But patience was his long suit, so he waited, knowing that Steph was trying to make a specific point.

"Look around you." She waved her hand around the apartment.

"Okay." He nodded.

"Other than my clothes, show me one thing here that belongs to me."

"You know that I do, Babe." She could hear the smile in his voice.

She stepped in front of Ranger and put her hands against his chest. "I know that, but I need you to understand. I'm standing in _your_ apartment, filled with _your_ stuff, in _your_ building. I work for _your _company and wear _your_ uniform with _your_ name on my chest. I cash a paycheck that has _your _name on it, and I even drive a car that's registered to _your _company." She slipped her arms around his waist. "There isn't a whole lot of 'me' in my life right now. And there's no 'me' here at all. My apartment is 'mine',_ my_ home, _my_ stuff. Here, I'm just one more thing that belongs to you."

His eyes widened microscopically … Ranger shock. He cupped her face in his hands, searching her eyes.

"Babe, have I ever treated you like a possession?"

"No! No, of course not. But I'd be staying here with you, in your home. It isn't my home. There isn't one thing here that reflects me."

"I don't know what to say, Babe. I never even thought of this place as 'home' until you started staying here. It was convenient; I didn't have to find someplace to live when I moved from Miami. Hell, I didn't even pick out the furniture, a decorator that the contractor hired did. I just moved my clothes in."

He took another look around, realizing how true his words were. The furniture was comfortable and modern, he liked it, but he had no connection to it, not the way that Steph seemed to have to her things. If the place burned down tomorrow, he wouldn't miss any of it. But he'd count every second that Steph wasn't here with him. If this was his home, it was because that's what _she_ made it.

"But these are just things, Steph, things that can be replaced. It's only home because you're here." He thought for a minute. "How about we find someplace and make it ours, yours and mine? And until then, I'll move in with you."

She stared at him, open-mouthed, for almost a minute, just blinking. Finally she managed to squeak out, "You … you want to live with ME?" The surprise in her voice was evident.

He smiled at her shock. "Of course I do. We sleep together, we work together, we eat breakfast and dinner together, and we practically live together anyway, so wh…?"

"Are you nuts?" She yelled, cutting him off. She couldn't believe that he was actually willing to give up his lifestyle to move in with her. "Look at how you live, for crying out loud! Everything is just … perfect! I mean this place looks like a picture from an issue of Interior Design Today!" She was waving her arms around, trying to make her point. "Ella takes care of it all … the cooking, the cleaning, the laundry, the bed is always made and the bathroom is always clean, every hanger in your closet is exactly two inches apart," she demonstrated with her thumb and index finger, holding them up in front of his nose, "and everything is always right where it belongs."

"It's all so … PERFECT and I can't do perfect! I can't cook, I mean peanut butter and olive sandwiches, but that doesn't even qualify as edible in your book, and … and," she was wringing her hands now, "… and I'm a slob … I hate to clean, I only do laundry when I'm out of clothes, I have killer dust bunnies under my bed, I … I …" Her voice got more panicked with each statement. "Oh my God, I don't know how to iron … I have to learn how to _iron_," she wailed, "and I don't even know where to buy all that healthy stuff you eat, or how to cook it! My Mom tried to teach me how to cook, and …" She put her hand to her temple and unconsciously massaged her twitching eye. "You're gonna have to give me time to learn all this stuff because my mother tried to teach me my whole life and …" she had started to pace up and down the hall, "… if I haven't learned anything in 30 years I obviously don't have any God give talent but of course I never really paid attention or tried very hard because I never really cared about it, you know, kinda like physics in high school, how many people actually use any of that stuff and I guess that's why my mother was always so disappointed and … What?"

Steph looked up at him when she finally realized that he was laughing … a full-out, head- thrown-back, mouth open, belly laugh. He watched as her face scrunched up and she immediately burst into tears.

Laughing even harder, he gathered her into his arms and kissed her, chuckling against her lips. He pulled her tightly against his chest and rocked her gently in his arms, crooning to her, "Oh my poor Babe. I don't expect you to do any of that. You don't need to be Cinderella. We'll hire somebody to do all that." She snuffled against his bare chest. He leaned his cheek against her hair and continued to rock her against him. "That isn't what makes a home, Querida."

"Besides," he said with a wolf grin, "your God given talents tend to run in other, much more pleasurable, directions."

He cupped her face gently in his hands and kissed away her tears, then he pulled back slightly and studied her face. "Babe, you HATE all that stuff. Would you really be willing to do all those things for me?"

She sighed and lowered her eyes, giving him a little nod. "I really don't think I'd be very good at any of them, but if that's what it took to make you happy," she gave a small shrug, "I would have given it my best shot."

Ranger wrapped his arms around her and rested his cheek on the top of her head. "You are something else, Babe," he whispered into her hair as they stood leaning against the door.

"And you'd really be willing to give all this up just to live with me?" She was still having trouble digesting that.

"I'd live with you in a cardboard box under a bridge somewhere if that's what it took. I honestly don't mind living someplace where everything is yours, Babe. As long as you're there, I'll have everything I need."

She was speechless and looked at him in surprise, trying to decide if he was serious. Before she could ask him if he really meant it, the doorbell rang, making her jump.

"Yes?" Ranger asked.

"Good morning, Carlos. I have brought breakfast." Ella's cheerful voice came through the door.

Steph tried to pull away from him, to escape back to the bedroom, but he laughed and held her tight. "You can't let her in! We're naked!" She hissed at him, her face turning a pretty shade of pink.

Ranger flipped the deadbolt, but didn't open the door. "Give us 30 seconds and then you can come in."

Ranger gave Steph an evil grin as he bent and he threw her over his shoulder. "We'll finish this conversation over dinner tonight," as he pinched her butt, making her shriek with laughter.

Striding down the hall he went through the bedroom and straight to the shower. He adjusted the temperature before he stepped under the spray with a laughing Steph still on his shoulder.

When he finally put her on her feet, he slowly slid her down his body and bent to whisper, "Do you remember that waterfall …" The water cascaded over them.

"Ummmmm, and how warm the water in that secluded little pool was…" she added as she ran her hand and then her mouth down his chest and lower still.

"And do you remember how you … ahhhh!" He couldn't continue because, obviously, she had remembered.

By the time they finished their shower and got dressed, the coffee was cold and the cream cheese was warm. Neither of them even noticed.

They took the elevator to five, exchanged a quick kiss, and then went their separate ways, Ranger to the Control Room and Steph to get her coffee. They had decided that while they were on the job, there wouldn't be any PDAs and they would treat each other like co-workers. Both of them figured this professionalism would probably be pretty difficult, considering they had spent most of the last three weeks together and half naked in their own little paradise. This was their first day back in the real world.

She wasn't really looking forward to coming back, not since it meant leaving their own private paradise, but they had managed to squeeze in another week on Roratoa. She had known that someone filled in doing the research while she was gone, and she was glad when she found out that it was Cal because he was detail-oriented and understood the search engines.

Steph sighed deeply as she watched Ranger's ass while he walked away. As gorgeous as he looked in those tight black cargos, she was imagining him in the board shorts that he had worn on the island. His hair was loose and he went bare-chested, his shorts hung dangerously low on his slim hips. She would slip her hands into the shorts and squeeze his delicious butt; she smiled to herself when she thought of how she had teased him. That last week he had convinced her to go topless and he couldn't keep his hands off of her either. They couldn't get enough of each other, making love all over their private island. She was so lost in her fantasy that she squeaked when heavily muscled arms bent her over backwards and a pair of lips was firmly planted on hers. Lester!

"Welcome back, Bombshell! How was the vacation on the deserted island? Did you have fun communing with nature?" His voice got low and sexy. "Enjoy playing Adam and Eve, running around naked, sunbathing in the nude, skinny dipping, slathering sun screen on all those delicate body parts …" He waggled his eyebrows at her lecherously.

"Lester!" She squealed. "Aren't you ever gonna grow up?" She playfully slapped at him with both hands. He slapped back and they stood there playing 'slap hands' like a couple of little kids. They wound up laughing with their arms wrapped around each other. He kept his arm around her waist and they walked into the break room.

Ram, Cal and Bobby were there getting coffee before the start of their shift in the Control Room when Steph and Lester walked in.

"Hey Bomber! Boy! Are we glad you're back!" Ram scooped her up and spun her around before he turned her over to Bobby.

"Slugger, you look more beautiful than ever." He gave her a resounding kiss on the lips before she was wrapped in Cal's arms.

Steph gave him a huge hug, then took a step back and looked Cal over. He had lost a few pounds but he was even more ripped than before. "Oh my God, Cal! Your abs are like rock! I'm surprised those bullets didn't bounce off. Are you back on the roster full time?"

"Still on desk duty for another two weeks and then we'll see. Gotta admit that it's been pretty dull around here with you and Ranger gone. I could get used to peace and quiet, but I gotta tell you Bomber, doing that research of yours damn near killed me!" He bent and planted a kiss on the top of her head. "I don't know how you do it! I kept dozing off from sheer boredom and hitting my head on the edge of the desk. Knocked myself cold a couple of times, too."

"I guess cyber-snooping isn't for everybody, Cal, but it feeds my spidey-sense. Sometimes a report will come out of the printer and I just know that there's something hokey in it before I even take a look. It's an adrenaline rush to link those clues together; it makes me feel like a detective or an investigator or something."

Cal snorted and shook his head. "No wonder you keep your gun in a cookie jar! We have totally different ideas of excitement. My idea of a good time includes a couple of flash/bang grenades, at least!"

"You must be one hell of a fun date!" Steph just rolled her eyes, knowing that what he said was the truth. They all thought that gunpowder was an aphrodisiac. Any girl who wanted to snag a Merry Man only had to dab a little behind her ears and they were sure to follow her like the Pied Piper.

One by one, Steph was welcomed back by the Merry Men. She was hugged and kissed and complimented on her tan. Hal had brought her Boston Crèmes and Hector poured her coffee and fixed it just right. She had to admit, it was good to be home. Home … when did she start thinking about RangeMan as home?

At that point Tank came out of his office. He stepped in front of her and peered into her face. The Merry Men gathered around.

"What's the matter, Tank? What are you looking at?"

"What day of the week is it?" He asked her seriously. "Tuesday," she answered, mystified.

"Who's the President of the United States?" "George Bush, but Tank wha …"

He cut her off. "What year is it?" She looked at him as if he was crazy. "2007 and why are you asking these silly questions?"

Tank breathed a big sigh of relief and relaxed. "She's okay," he said to the Merry Men. He smiled at her and quipped, "I was afraid that you two had fucked one another's brains out on that island and I'd have to keep doing all this shitty paperwork." Everybody cracked up and Steph turned bright red. Tank wrapped her in a bear hug, lifting her off her feet and kissing her soundly.

"Got some priority searches here that need to be done ASAP," as he handed her a small stack of files. "We left the ones that could wait by your computer. He bent and gave her a kiss on the cheek and whispered, "I'm glad you had a good time, Bomber. You two really deserved it." Steph hugged the big man in return.

Juggling the files and her coffee mug, she headed for her cubby. There couldn't be that many searches to do this morning, and she could knock them out in no time. She was looking forward to taking a long lunch with Connie and Lula and Mary Lou, and wanted to deliver the gifts she had gotten them and to catch up on their lives and local gossip. She knew that they would want a detailed description of her vacation, with most of the details concerning Ranger and his physical attributes. Smiling to herself, she wondered how many of those private details the girls would try to pry out of her, and just how much information she'd really give them.

As she turned into her cubicle, Steph pulled her phone off her belt and flipped it open to call Connie, but froze in mid dial. It was one of those 'I can't believe my eyes' moments, and she stared, open mouthed, at her cubby. She closed her eyes and shook her head, then slowly opened them again. Nope. She still saw what she thought she saw the first time.

It looked like a bomb had gone off in there! Her In-Box was so stuffed that it had collapsed and files spilled out over the desk and onto the chair. The floor was covered with papers, the file cabinets and guest chair held stacks of research requests and the computer was completely hidden by a mountain of manila. There were hundreds, maybe thousands of search requests.

Stephanie bent and slowly picked up a handful of requests from the floor. Each and every one of them had been signed by _F. Rodriguez_. She had never seen the man, but just the sight of his signature made her blood boil. She was gonna kill him! _F. Rodriguez_ had been the bane of her existence since she had started doing research here. He filled her in-box with stacks of search requests whenever she left her cubby, even if it was only for a second. He would lay in wait for her to leave and then he struck! She was gonna hunt him down and kill him … slowly and painfully! _F. Rodriguez_ was a dead man!

She heard snickering behind her, and whirled around to sea of laughing Merry Men, all of whom were attempting to beat a hasty retreat.

"Oh no you don't! Somebody's gotta help me clean this up!" Steph barked, and they all stopped in their tracks and turned to face her, laughing and elbowing each other like a bunch of schoolboys who got caught playing a prank. She narrowed her eyes and gave them her best 'Burg death glare.

Tank caught the look and quickly put up a hand to shield his eyes. "Careful, men! Legend has it if you look Bombshell straight in the eye during a death glare, your balls will shrivel to the size of peanuts and you'll never get it up again." This got roaring laughs from all the Merry Men, but Steph noticed that they all looked away from her, just in case.

"Come on, Bombshell. We have a little 'Welcome Back' surprise for you."

"Oh, this was a surprise alright! I thought you guys liked me!" She was practically whining.

"We do Sweetheart, but we just couldn't resist teasing you a little." Lester hooked an arm around her neck and started to pull her to the other side of the room. "You're just so easy!"

"Excuse me? What did you just call me?" She said in mock insult, then hauled off and slugged him in the arm. He howled in fake pain, then grabbed her hand and dragged her down the hall with the rest of the Merry Men trailing behind.

They all stopped when they got to the File Room door and Steph watched as Hal slid a little engraved plaque into the holder next to the door. It said simply, 'Bombshell.' She looked at the guys a little suspiciously, but when Cal and Ram made sweeping bows, she turned the knob and pushed the door open. To her surprise, the nasty old File Room had been turned into an office … her office.

Tank explained that since RangeMan now had so many high profile, and in many cases celebrity clients, her work area needed to be kept under lock and key. While every RangeMan employee had to pass a high level security screening, first impressions were everything. It made prospective clients feel more secure to see that everything was locked up tight.

She was pleasantly surprised at how much care the guys had taken in setting up her office. The walls were painted a pale gold, and the cherry framed prints were of the sun setting behind the island of Moorea, taken just when the world turned golden. The room wasn't much bigger that her cubby had been, but instead of the built-ins, she had a cherry desk and credenza big enough to accommodate her computer and her laptop, as well as the hated In-Box. A tall, triple filing cabinet, a desk chair and guest chair completed the furnishings.

The guys had added a few little personal touches, too. A braided ficus tree in a big pot stood in the corner. She wondered how she was supposed to keep it alive in the windowless room until she realized that it was silk. On top of the file cabinet was a goldfish bowl with three beautiful fish in it. She chuckled when she figured out that the fish were blown glass, anchored to the bottom by tiny little weights and a clear thread. Even the plants were plastic. These guys knew her so well.

Steph couldn't help but laugh out loud when she saw that the screensaver on her computer had been changed from a picture of Rex, to a group shot of all the Merry Men, shirtless and studly, of course. But she had to groan when she saw the stack of real research requests on her desk, all signed by her favorite fellow employee, the ever-elusive _F. Rodriguez._

She knew she needed to get busy on the searches if she was going to play hooky at lunch time, so she escorted the Merry Men out of her office and into the hall where she hugged and kissed each one. Glancing toward the Control Room, she saw Ranger standing behind the glass, arms crossed over his chest, wearing one of his 200-watt smiles. He was obviously in on this and enjoying the joke, too. She made a pissy face and stuck out her tongue at him. He just threw back his head and laughed some more.

Bobby caught sight of Ranger's smile and turned to look at Steph. He watched them as their expressions slowly changed from laughter to lust. With a smirk Bobby elbowed Lester, who bumped Tank, who nudged Ram, who kicked Hal, who jabbed Cal, who prodded Hector, who tapped Vince and they all backed away to clear the path between Ranger and Steph. No one would ever forget Ram being knocked on his ass when he broke 'The Beam'. It looked like the whole group was watching a tennis match as their smiling faces swiveled back and forth between Ranger and Steph, enjoying the show.

The guys watched, snickering, as the lovers' eyes locked on each other, oblivious to the people around them. They stared into each other's eyes for several long minutes. Steph wet her lips with the tip of her tongue; Ranger tucked his chin toward his chest. His eyes turned black and her breathing became ragged, he grabbed the back of the chair in front of him, his knuckles turning white, she raised her hand to her throat and toyed with the neckline of her shirt.

Out of the corner of his eye, Tank saw a RangeMan employee step out of the elevator on the far side of the room and head their way. If he went into one of the cubicles, everything would be okay. If he turned and walked in front of the control room, he would step between Ranger and Steph and break 'The Beam.' The guy was making notes on one of the papers in his hand and Tank wasn't able to attract his attention. All eyes were on him as he hesitated, then turned to walk past the Control Room.

The Merry Men looked at each other and grinned. "This is gonna be good!" Ram muttered. Not wanting to miss the show, they were galvanized into action, and they all made for the Control Room at once. Unfortunately, that many large bodies crammed in a confined area only created a gridlock as each one maneuvered to be first down the hall. They jammed into the doorway and literally got stuck in a tangle of arms and legs and massive chests. The smallest of the group, Hector, got down on all fours and crawled through their legs, then raced to see the poor, unsuspecting dope who was going to get himself zapped.

The guys watched as Ranger's nostrils flared, Stephanie bit her lower lip, and both of them were practically panting. As Hector skidded to a halt, 'The Beam' was broken. Ranger looked like someone had punched him in the gut and he sat down hard on the edge of one of the Control Room desks. Stephanie's eyelids fluttered shut. She staggered back a step and slid down the wall and into a chair.

And the employee? Well, it was the much-hated _F. _Rodriguez who went down hard in a flurry of papers. Never believing the story of 'The Beam,' he would go to his grave swearing that someone had snuck up behind him and stunned him. Much to his dismay and Steph's joy, the Merry Men never let him live it down and teased him unmercifully. All his future research requests came to Steph by inter-office mail and he was never seen on the fifth floor again.

Stephanie recovered from her embarrassment and closeted herself in her office, immersing herself in the searches. She lost track of time and worked non-stop until a knock on her door distracted her.

"Come in." She looked up to see Ranger standing in her doorway.

"My very first visitor." She got up and wrapped her arms around his waist, pulling him into her office and closing the door.

"What time are you going to lunch, Babe?" He said against her lips before he kissed her deeply.

When the kiss finally broke, Steph smiled at him a little drunkenly, "Lunch? You wanna be my lunch? I'm craving Cuban." She rubbed up against him suggestively and kissed his neck.

He laughed, "You've turned into a horny little thing, haven't you?" He nuzzled the side of her face and growled deep in his throat. "I'd love to. Unfortunately, I have an appointment and you're gonna be late for lunch with the girls. Come on, Babe. I'll walk you down to the garage."

She turned off her computer, grabbed her purse and locked her office. Ranger quirked an eyebrow, "Like it?"

"Yeah, I do. How come you didn't tell me about it?"

"What? And ruin their surprise? I don't think so. They worked so hard to keep it a secret." He chuckled at the thought of how these huge guys sneaked around hiding furniture catalogs and paint chips before he and Steph had left on vacation.

They stopped at Lester's desk to pick up keys. Most of RangeMan's vehicles had been destroyed when Karvic had put a price on Steph's head. A hit man had planted a bomb in hopes of flushing her out of hiding. The bomb had damaged the garage and sent most of the vehicles parked there to car heaven. The question of whether these dead autos would be added to the Bombshell's total kill record was still being debated. In any event, Steph needed a new company vehicle.

"Okay Bombshell, you're all set. The new vehicle has keyless entry and remote start. It has the full RangeMan Option Package, the newest anti-theft devices, anti-tampering devices, dual GPS, gun safe, even an oversized lighted vanity mirror."

She gave him a pissy look at the vanity mirror. But Lester replied, "All the better to watch who's following you with, my dear," and waggled his eyebrows. Steph just rolled her eyes in response.

Ranger took the keys to his new Dodge Ram devil truck, and Steph secretly wished that it had been her assigned vehicle instead of the standard black RangeMan SUV. They walked to the elevator, discussing the various appointments Ranger had scheduled for the week.

"I've got an appointment with Alexander Ramos this afternoon. I know you like the old man, you want to go along? He's got a soft spot for you, maybe you can help negotiate?"

The elevator arrived and when they got on, Ranger automatically put his arms around her. "You'd really let me come along on a contract negotiation?" She looked at him in surprise.

"I've been meaning to talk to you about this, and just never got around to it. I'd like you to get more involved in the sales and contract part of RangeMan. I'd like you to sit in on meetings, observe potential clients, and come along on interviews, things like that. Your spidey-sense is like an untapped natural resource and it would be foolish for us not to take advantage of it." He waited for her reaction.

"So is that why you want me to move in? So that my spidey-sense can be on call 24/7?" She sounded snarky, even to herself.

"Absolutely! I'm just gonna turn you off and keep you in a closet in case we need it." The elevator doors pinged open and Ranger ushered Steph out into the garage. She turned and grabbed him by the front of his shirt, pulling him tightly against her.

"Impossible!" She breathed into his ear and slowly ran her hands over his chest. "I don't think you could ever turn me off."

"Feeling's mutual, Babe. But we're giving the guys in the Control Room a show." Steph sighed and rolled her eyes as she stepped back from him.

"Okay, so which one is mine?" She looked over the garage full of identical black SUVs.

"Just press the remote and it'll flash its lights and beep at you, Babe," Ranger was having a good time looking over his new toy.

Steph walked down the aisle pressing the remote. Finally she heard a beep coming, she thought, from a huge Suburban. She groaned inwardly at the thought of driving what amounted to a bus, but she'd never let Ranger know how she felt. She walked around to the driver's side of the big, black, behemoth and stopped short.

Sitting hidden behind the SUV was a bright red 2007 Mazda MX-5 Miata Grand Touring Convertible. Stunned, Steph pushed the button on the remote … Beep! She pushed it again … Beep! She walked around the snazzy little car, pushing the remote, in what amounted to shock.

"You're gonna wear out the battery, Babe." A smiling Ranger commented from the other side of the garage where he leaned against his truck, watching her. "So what do you think?" He pushed off the truck and walked toward her.

A huge smile broke over her face and she launched herself across the space and climbed Ranger like a tree. He staggered back a step, laughing, when her full weight hit him. She wrapped her legs around his waist, her arms around his neck and she peppered his face with kisses.

"You are a wonderful," kiss, "marvelous," kiss, "delicious," kiss, "thoughtful," kiss, "sexy," kiss, kiss, kiss. He finally fused his mouth to hers and gave her a bone melting kiss. "Wanna christen it?" She purred into his ear.

"Babe! Nice idea, but I don't think we'd fit!" He actually looked disappointed.

They looked at each other, both getting the same idea at the same time and breaking into slow, knowing smiles. Ranger put Steph down on her feet and used his remote to scramble the security cameras. She grabbed him by the hand and they literally ran to his truck and climbed in.

Later, as they lay in a tangle of arms and legs, she turned to him and giggled. "I think you've turned me into the one thing that my mother was always afraid I'd be … a nymphomaniac!"

He laughed back as he brushed her wild curls out of her face. "Yeah, BabeBut you've turned me into your sexual slave. We're the perfect pair!"

And they were. They had become friends and lovers and partners.

Their days fell into an easy pattern of work and play, and they both learned the importance of compromise. They were happy and in love.

They had been together 4 months, 2 weeks, 6 days, 9 hours, and 51 minutes.

TBC …

So tell me what you think? Should Steph move in? Will she really become a partner? What do you want to see for our happy couple? Ranger and Steph are thrilled with your wonderful reviews … They read them before they go to bed (Ranger says it makes them hot!) so please continue to send them. Thanks for reading and reviewing!


	3. Bridge!

_Disclaimer: They all belong to Janet Evanovich!_

_Warnings: Graphic Smut!_

_A/N: Thanks to Karen, Stef, Luisa, and Christie, without whom none of this would be here and I'd be hiding out under my desk. As always, I'm a review slut, so please read and review._

The Name Of The Game!

Chapter 2: Bridge!

Squinch! Squinch! Squinch! Squinch! The sound of her wet sneakers hitting the sodden track echoed in her ears. She was about 12 feet behind Ranger, watching the muscles of his back and his legs and his ass ripple under his satin smooth skin as he ran in front of her. He ran at a steady pace, his body moving with the ease and grace of a wild animal, lost in the sheer physical pleasure of the exercise.

Of course, the physical pleasure that Stephanie was focused on had nothing whatsoever to do with running around the stupid track. She had to smile to herself. He was the rabbit to her greyhound, okay, not greyhound … the carrot to her donkey was more like it. She HATED running but as long as she got to watch his buns of steel, she'd be out here following him like a love struck teenager. The fact that he was wearing only sneakers and a pair of soaking wet running shorts that were molded to his ass, was just the icing on the cake.

So here she was, at 6:15 in the morning, in the rain, looking like a drowned rat compared to Adonis, watching little rivulets of water stream down his perfect back. She had to fight the urge to grab him and lick him dry. Maybe she would after their shower. He glanced over his shoulder at her and caught her smile. He didn't need to read her mind to know what she was thinking. He just grinned and shook his head.

In keeping with RangeMan policy, she was required to work out in the gym three times a week. She absolutely hated the exercise, but she had to admit that she looked better than she had in years. There wasn't an iota of fat on her, plus she could eat all the Ben & Jerry's and TastyKakes she wanted, and still fit into her clothes. She just wouldn't admit to anybody that it was the exercise.

Five times a week, Ranger and the Merry Men jogged to a track and then ran laps and sometimes the bleacher steps. They invited her along, but despite all those beautiful male bodies, all she could think of was herself, gasping for breath, sweaty, and facedown in the middle of the track with the guys leaping over her like a hurdle. Thanks, but no thanks! She hated the running part, but at least on the treadmill she was heated or air conditioned as needed. Plus, she could stop any damned time she wanted and only be an elevator ride away from a shower and clean clothes.

This whole 'running together' thing started while they were on vacation. She had rolled out of bed before sunrise to run along the beach with him. They'd finish with a swim and then a shower, they'd make love and take a nap … life had been idyllic. And even though she had hated the running, she loved spending the time with him doing something he so obviously enjoyed.

She had spent their first night back in Trenton in Ranger's apartment, but he had been out with some of the Merry Men on a take down. He still wasn't back when she had come down to the fifth floor to start work. She was in the Break Room, jockeying playfully for the spot in front of the coffee pot with Tank and Lester. She won first place by default while the guys were wrestling.

The three of them stood in a line, waiting patiently for the little red light to come on, telling them that the coffee was done. As soon as it lit up, Tank grabbed Steph around the waist and deposited her at the end of the line while Lester grabbed the pot, filling their mugs. They hooted as Steph yelled at them in mock outrage.

She heard a soft chuckle behind her and turned to find Ranger leaning against the door frame.

"You've been outmaneuvered, Babe. Want me to beat up the Break Room bullies for you?" She smiled at him and sashayed across the room.

He was dressed in black shorts, a sleeveless t-shirt and track shoes. Of course, it didn't really matter to her how he was dressed, he always looked edible, but it was almost 8:30 in the morning so she arched an eyebrow at him and pointedly looked him over.

"I know," he said, smiling, "I got a late start today, but I'm going for a run. I'll wait for you if you want to go change?"

She snorted. "I don't think so! Much as I'd love to join you, I don't have any running clothes here, anyway."

He gave her a wolf grin. "We could always run in the nude." His voice was low and husky at the thought.

"Well yeah," she said, nonchalantly, as she stirred her coffee. "I suppose we could. But if we're gonna run in the nude, you'll have to run in front of me. I'm partial to that view."

Ranger smiled full on and shook his head slowly from side to side. "Ohhhh, I don't think so, Babe. That would defeat the whole purpose of being naked as far as I'm concerned."

"Naked?" Lester's head shot up at the word. "Who's running naked? You running in the nude, Bombshell?" Lester came over to her and waggled his eyebrows. "I'll volunteer to be your track coach," he offered with a lecherous grin. "I could … I don't know … time your laps, give you rundowns, slather sun screen on you, tie your sneak… Gac!" Tank grabbed Lester in a choke hold and dragged him out of the Break Room, down the hall, and into the Control Room.

Breaking free from Tank, Lester turned on him and demanded, "What the hell do you think you were doing?"

Tank quirked an eyebrow at him. "Saving your life, asshole. Did you see the expressions on their faces? I don't know who would have done more damage to you, Carlos or the Bomber!"

Lester paled at the thought. "Thanks, man. I owe ya!"

Tank laughed it off. "No shit! Better than having to clean up the bloody mess afterward."

Ranger and Steph had laughed at the scene of Tank dragging a helpless Lester down the hall. Now that they were alone, Ranger pulled her into his arms and trailed kisses across her mouth and jaw and neck.

"I missed you last night," they said in unison, then laughed at the same time.

"So," he said as he nibbled her collarbone, "Wanna come?"

She nuzzled the side of his face and whispered in his ear, "Oh Yeah! But not running." They never made it to the track that day.

After that morning, they ran together three times a week. She rolled out of bed before dawn, rain or shine. He drove them to the track. She brought the water and the towels. He didn't make the run more than she could handle, and she didn't bitch. On the way home, without saying anything to her, he would go to the Dunkin' Donuts drive-thru and get her 2 Boston Crèmes and a coffee, fixed just right. They were learning the art of compromise.

Ranger tossed the file onto his desk and leaned back in his chair, pulling the leather tie out of his hair and running his hand through it. It had been a long couple of days and he was frustrated, irritated, and tired. He had taken off his suit jacket as soon as he walked through the door, and now he rolled up his shirt sleeves and loosened his tie. He wasn't even halfway through the stack of files that needed his attention this evening. This was going to be one hell of a long night.

10 . 9 . 8 . 7 .

He had wasted the earlier part of the evening taking a client to dinner. It had become a practice that he would entertain prospective clients at one of the local restaurants. Taking people out of the office and putting them in a relaxed atmosphere allowed him to observe them with their guard down, letting him get a read on their true natures.

This was the part of the business that he hated the most. Entertaining clients, taking them to lunch or dinner, _that_ he could handle. But schmoozing? Stroking their egos? Not in his job description! Sucking up to businessmen with over-inflated egos and their surgically enhanced wives went against everything he believed in. Once Steph had taken over the planning and execution of these evenings, they had become bearable. She charmed the men and subtly staked her claim on him, letting the women know in no uncertain terms that he was taken. Now that he was able to sit back and observe, these dinners actually became tolerable.

He loved watching her in action, working the 'crowd' so to speak. She had this gift for making every man that she spoke to feel like he was the only man in the room. No wonder Dickie Orr wanted her on his arm. He had aspired to a political career and Steph was a definite asset. The Burg girl who was all mouth could morph into the perfect hostess, at will, it seemed. She had, yet again, proved herself to be a major asset to RangeMan.

But Steph had been away for the past three days, and more importantly, the past three nights. She had gone to Atlantic City to attend a 'Family' wedding. A distant Plum cousin was marrying a cousin of Connie's. The bond office had been closed and they were all off in AC while he was left to cope with these clients by himself. He had spent the evening fighting off the horny wife of a short, fat blowhard. He swore to himself that he would never again take clients to any restaurant that had tablecloths.

He discovered that he didn't sleep well without Steph in bed beside him. He was a man who could fall asleep in the heat of a Middle Eastern desert, in the frigid mountains of Afghanistan, or in the middle of a monsoon in the Far East. He could cross his arms over his chest, set his internal alarm and sleep in a bat and guano filled cave, in a jungle crawling with poisonous insects, or in any hell hole on Earth, but he couldn't sleep in a secured building, on 1200 thread count sheets without that woman in his arms. He was considering taking a drive to AC just so he could get a decent night's sleep, but he didn't want to put a damper on Steph's fun.

He scrubbed his hands over his face and rubbed his temples. He rarely got headaches, but the combination of lack of sleep, the irritation of dealing with stupid, self-centered people, and the stacks of paperwork he had in front of him made his head feel like it was going to explode.

He had just opened the next file when there was a soft knock on the door. He groaned inwardly. He had purposely chosen to work up here in the Corporate Office to avoid interruptions. This room had been designed to impress clients. The dark wood paneling, leather furniture, carved mahogany desk, and Oriental carpets were opulent. It was cool and dark in here, away from the activity of the fifth floor, and Ranger found it easier to get the hated paperwork done here. He blew out a deep breath in frustration. He had been found.

"Come in!" He didn't look up and the irritation in his voice was obvious.

The door opened slowly and Stephanie slipped in. Closing the door, she leaned back against it and flipped the deadbolt, locking the door. At the sound of the lock turning, Ranger looked up and smiled at her in surprise. She reached over and flipped off the ceiling lights, leaving only the illumination from his desk lamp.

"Babe! I didn't expe …" His words died in his throat when he saw that she had her finger to her lips and he heard a soft, 'Shhhhhhh.' Only then did he realize that she was wearing a belted trench coat, a men's hat and those red FMPs with the ribbons that wrapped around her ankles and were tied in a bow. He loved those FMPs on her, they were damned sexy and he had told her so.

He watched her in bemusement as she stalked to the front of his desk, all 'in charge' and sexy and dragged one of the guest chairs into the middle of the room. She sashayed over to him and took hold of his tie, using it like a leash to tug him onto his feet and lead him to the chair. Her hand brushed over the front of his pants, earning her a sharp intake of his breath as she reached into his pocket and extracted his keys. Aiming the remote at the camera covering the office, she pushed the little button that would scramble the signal, and then tossed the keys onto his desk. She shoved him backward into the chair, placing his hands on the arms. Moving her mouth close to his ear she whispered, "No touching," then licked up the side of his neck before moving away.

From a coat pocket, she produced a small CD player and laid it on the edge of his desk. Steph hit the 'Play' button and the sexy, rhythmic beat of a bluesy instrumental filled the room. With her back turned to him, she started to sway her hips sensuously to the music. He thought she was sex on feet as she danced her way across the room to stand close to him. Slowly, she raised her arms up, one at a time, to reach above her as she arched her back and thrust out her breasts, all the while rolling her hips in a tight figure eight. Bringing her hands down behind her head, she brushed her fingers over her neck and down into the V of the coat neckline, caressing her skin and making that little kitten noise that twisted in his gut. He reached out for her and she crossed one FMPed foot in front of the other and twirled away from him, out of reach. She held her hand out at arm's length and waved her finger back and forth in a classic 'no-no' at him.

He was smiling at her, watching her dance for him. Steph never ceased to amaze him. She stared directly into his eyes, sending him a clear message. There was nothing impersonal about the way she danced. Standing up, she could move her body the same way she moved when she was lying under him in bed. She was boneless as she undulated in front of him and he could feel himself getting hard.

Her hands ran down over her breasts to the belt of the trench coat and she untied it, letting it slip off her shoulders to the floor. The tuxedo shirt she was wearing barely covered her ass and was held closed by a single button at her breasts. Her microscopic black lace thong just begged to be ripped off, and Ranger couldn't wait to do just that. Just the sight of her made his mouth water.

Her eyes never left his as her tongue darted out to wet her pouty lips, and he fixated on her mouth. She caught her lower lip between her teeth and languidly let her eyelids almost close as she let herself be carried away by the music. Her hands never stopped moving, caressing her body, from her throat over her breasts, stroking her belly and hips, all the way down her legs to her ankles. She moved her hands up to her knees, using her arms to push her breasts together, then she raised her head and smiled seductively, giving him a clear view down her shirt to her cleavage.

As she moved around the chair, she let her butt brush up against his shoulder, her mound touch his elbow as she danced. She sifted her hands through his hair, then fisted it and pulled his head back against her breasts before she bent and took his mouth in a scorching kiss. Sliding her tongue over his, she made little moans into his mouth and when she sucked his tongue rhythmically, he felt himself twitch. By the time she broke the kiss, they were both breathless.

Standing behind the chair, she reached around him and stroked his chest through the silk of his shirt before untying his tie, leaving it hanging around his neck. She skimmed her fingers lightly down the front of his shirt, pulling it out of his waistband, popping each button open. He was muttering in Spanish by the time she slipped her hands inside his shirt to pull it open. Scraping her nails up over his abs to his flat nipples, she teased them with feathery touches and could feel his breath hitch in his chest as she pinched and rolled them.

All the while she kept her face close to his, licking his neck and the shell of his ear with the tip of her tongue, and breathing on the wet trail she had left there. She gave his earlobe a final sharp nip as a shiver ran through him and she smiled in satisfaction. She could plainly see the evidence of her effect on him and as she moved around in front of him, she took off her hat and dropped it over his crotch with a wicked grin.

She watched his hands flex on the arms of the chair and he leaned slightly forward, so she danced back, out of his reach. She stood in front of him, shifting her weight from one foot to the other in time to the music. Raising her hands she took the clips out of her hair, letting it cascade down while she rolled her hips and stomach muscles like a belly dancer. She could see that his breathing had changed, his nostrils flared slightly and his lips parted.

She took a step closer, and twirled to face away from him, spreading her feet. She locked her knees and slowly bent over at the waist until her hair swept the floor. Her hands massaged her butt while she looked back at him through her legs. She stroked the center of her upper lip with her tongue, then bent her knees and bounced her ass, side to side, slowly to the beat of the music. Working her way to the floor, she spun to face him and, spreading her knees apart, slid her hands over the inside of her thighs. Tossing her hair back, she moaned as she ran her hands into her thong and over her crotch, then up to knead her breasts. She popped the one button holding her shirt closed and tore open her shirt as she rose to her feet. Ranger loosed a long, low growl at the sight of her bare breasts with their rosy pink nipples; their pearl laying nestled between them. His hands gripped the arms of the chair so tightly that his knuckles were white.

Steph stalked closer to him and placed one FMPed foot flat on Ranger's chest and pushed him back in the chair. She bent and shoved his knees apart, falling on her own, between his legs. His black eyes met her cobalt blue ones, both of them more than turned on by now. She ran her hands up his thighs and over his groin, then reached out and unbuckled his belt, pulling it through the belt loops and flinging it aside. Slowly, she unzipped him, freeing him from the confines of his pants. She made an 'Mmmmm' sound at the sight of him and he growled deep in his chest.

She watched him through slitted eyes as she snaked her way up his body, her bare breasts brushing over his rock hard erection and her pebbled nipples trailing up his chest. Bracing her hands on his shoulders, she ground her hips into him as she panted in his ear. His head was thrown back and his jaw was clinched. She could feel his muscles, bunched and trembling with the effort it took not to touch her.

Balancing herself on the arms of the chair, she turned in his lap. She could feel the hard length of him against her ass as she rocked against him. Arching her back she leaned her head onto his shoulder and wrapped an arm around his neck, fisting her hand into his hair. The music throbbed through them as she ground against him, her other hand stroking herself through the sodden lace of the thong. Turning her had to his ear, she whispered, "Carlos, no aguanto mas...quiero sentirte enterrado ya mismo." She heard the arm of the chair crack as he broke it.

The last shreds of his control snapped and he wrapped his arm around her waist, lifting her as he stood. He carried her the two steps to the desk and with his free hand swept the desktop clean. Before the stacks of files hit the floor she was face down on the desk, her thong ripped off and he was buried in her up to the hilt. Their slow, romantic love making forgotten, this was fucking, hard and fast … exactly what they both wanted and needed. He slammed into her as she clawed the desktop, and when he reached around and stroked her clit she came screaming his name. Her muscles clinching him like a hot, wet hand spurred his own climax and he came with an almost painful roar before he collapsed on top her.

He raised his weight off of her and they slowly sank to the floor in a tangle of arms and legs and clothes, breathless and shuddering in the aftermath of their encounter. They held each other as they recovered and he pushed the hair out of her face, kissing her gently. He lay there with his eyes closed, holding her against his chest.

"You have no self-control at all, Carlos!" She giggled. "You didn't give me a chance to finish!"

"I could have sworn you came first, Babe," he said with a grin. "You damn near killed me."

"Hmmm…but you missed my big finale!"

"You mean there was more?" He barked out a laugh. "I think that this qualified as a grand finale, Babe. Don't you?"

She leaned up on one elbow and looked down at him, clearly disappointed. "You mean you're through already? Done? Finished?"

He dragged his eyes open and studied her, then gave a theatrical sigh, "The things I do for the woman I love."

He moved her off of his chest and finished undressing before he settled between her thighs. "So," he asked. "What would the lady like?"

She wrapped her arms around his neck, grinned up at him and said in her best Oliver Twist accent, "Please Sir, may I have some more?"

"God, woman! I love you!" He laughed as he lowered his mouth to hers.

They made love in their bed, on the floor, in the car, on the car, on every level and not so level surface in the apartment. She read his mind and fulfilled every wish, he brought her to heights she never thought possible. She joked that he had turned her into a nymphomaniac; he claimed that he was her sex slave. He noticed that she had left claw marks in the finish of the desk in his corporate office. He felt his body quicken every time he looked at them or her. He never thought that it was possible to love anyone as much as he loved her.

6 . 5 . 4 .

They had finally worked out their living arrangements. After hunting the area for weeks with a real estate agent, they came to the conclusion that the only place that made sense for them to live right now, was in the penthouse. Ranger hired an architect who practically read their minds and gutted the place, knowing exactly what they wanted and needed to make them happy. The structural work was finished and they only had to wait for the furnishings to be delivered before they moved in.

They quickly went through four different interior decorators until they hit on one who could listen. The first had a design that would make them feel like they were always on safari, with elephant foot tables and zebra skins on the walls. PETA would have had a field day. The second showed them those couches shaped like lips and chairs that were impossible to get out of. They would have felt like they were living in The Museum of Modern Art. The third, obviously designed for tacky Las Vegas strip clubs with red satin drapes and a round revolving bed with a mirrored ceiling. They could have rented the place out to porn makers. Number four must have specialized in assisted living facilities, presenting generic and forgettable motel type furnishings. They wouldn't have known if they were at home or at a Motel 6. Number five found comfortable furnishings that they both could agree on. A miracle.

As promised, Ranger moved into her apartment with her while they waited out the rebuild. They talked about renting a furnished place, or even moving into one of the studios on the fourth floor, but those places weren't home to either one of them, and would defeat the whole purpose. They had to face it. If they were going to find out if they could live together, this was the best way to do it.

She stood in the bathroom one morning and looked at his razor lying on the counter next to her hair stuff, at his toothbrush in the holder next to hers. She smiled when she remembered how she had panicked during the Scrog mess, when she had seen his things on her bathroom counter. Now, not only was his razor and Bulgari here, so were his towels and sheets and clothes … and his computer and his guns and his knives and his body armor and his healthy food and his treadmill. Who knew that he ran on a treadmill at 3am?

It really was an adjustment for both of them. For her, it was sharing her space, for him, it was sharing her space. The apartment was so small that there was no place to escape from one another. Living in each others' back pockets gave a whole new meaning to the phrase 'up close and personal,' and their differences were magnified.

He could do laundry on a daily basis; she only did laundry when she ran out of clothes. He washed every dish he used, she only ran the dishwasher when she ran out of dishes. He believed that everything had a place; she felt that anyplace was okay for everything. He used a laundry hamper, her hamper was the floor. A clean neat space was soothing to him; she was a pack rat with killer dust bunnies under her bed. He liked everything pressed and folded; she thought the guy who invented that wrinkle remover spray was a god. He squeezed the toothpaste tube from the bottom, she squeezed the toothpaste tube.

When Ranger got a call from the control room that a fire had been reported in the apartment building, he and Tank raced there, running every light. They screeched to a halt in the parking lot to find smoke billowing out of the windows, fire fighters running in and out of the building, and EMTs checking out the residents who were sitting and lying on the ground by the dumpster.

They spotted Steph perched on the hood of her Miata, with her elbows on her knees and her chin in her hands. Rex's cage sat beside her. She was soaked, had fire extinguisher foam in her singed hair, and smoke smudges all over her clothes and skin. Morelli was standing, hands on hips, looking down at her.

Ranger and Tank jogged over in time to hear Morelli quip, "What did you do this time, Cupcake? Try to cook dinner? Man, somebody at the station is gonna get rich today! Not only did you set the place on fire, you cleared the whole damn building!"

Morelli nodded to Ranger and shook his head. "Glad her fuck ups are your problem now." He turned back to Steph. "Not that I don't love you, Cupcake. But since we splitn up, I'm not hooked on Maalox anymore." He gave her a kiss on the cheek and as he passed Ranger, muttered, "Poor bastard! I'll send you a case. You're gonna need it." Ranger heard him chuckle as he walked away. Tank looked after him and growled.

Ranger stepped in front of a dejected Stephanie and cupped her face in his hands. She wrapped her fingers around his wrists and looked up into his eyes. "I haven't screwed up in months. But everybody assumes that when anything goes wrong, it just _has_ to be my fault and this time, it's really not m-m-my f-f-fault!" Tears pooled in her eyes and slipped down her cheeks leaving streaks in the soot.

Ranger reached into his pocket and pulled out a clean handkerchief and gently wiped her face. He tucked her singed hair behind her ear and bent to kiss her trembling lips. "It's okay, Baby."

He was just about to ask her what happened, when Mr. and Mrs. Karwatt came over. "Oh Stephanie! How can we thank you? You saved our lives. We couldn't have gotten out without you!" A reporter standing nearby taking pictures of the smoking building overheard them and hustled over, looking for a scoop. All of the residents surrounded him, giving details of their exciting rescue.

Steph looked helplessly at the crowd forming around her and tearfully at Ranger who pulled his cell phone off his belt and made a quick call. When the reporter aimed his camera at Steph, Tank stepped between them, giving the reporter a look that made him whimper and slink away. Ranger scooped her up into his arms and seated her in the Miata with Rex on her lap, jumped in and took off.

Fifteen minutes later they pulled into the garage at Haywood. Taking her hand in his and tucking Rex's cage under his arm, they headed for the elevator and dropped Rex off with Ella before heading up to seven. Still holding her hand, he led her through the empty apartment and into the new master bath. Ella had been busy. The new Jacuzzi tub was filled with bubbles and lit candles twinkled on every surface.

Very gently, Ranger undressed Steph. He dropped her clothes in a pile by the door to be thrown out. He lifted her up and deposited her into the warm water where she leaned her head against her knees with a contented sigh. Ranger quickly shed his clothes and slipped into the water behind her turning on the water jets. She relaxed against his chest, eyes closed, as he used a sea sponge to wash the smoke and soot off of her. He even shampooed her hair. She didn't think that she could possibly love this man more than he did right now.

"Gonna tell me what happened?" He asked as he scrubbed her back with the sponge. She let out a happy little sigh.

"Mrs. Karwatt was making dinner and put a pot of grease on the stove to make fries. I guess she forgot about it because I smelled it even before I saw the smoke. Ever since I burned down Cluck in a Bucket I'm sensitive to the smell of burning grease," she said very seriously.

Ranger was glad he was sitting behind her so she couldn't see his smile. "Anyhow, I heard her scream and I went to find out what was wrong. She dropped the pot and the grease caught fire and spread across the kitchen floor. I grabbed them and got Mrs. Bestler off the elevator, called 911 and got them outside. Then I went back and got the big fire extinguisher from the hall, but the smoke was too thick. So I got as many out as I could. That's it. And then the Fire Department and Morelli showed up."

He pulled her back against him, wrapping his arms around her. "You're a hero, Babe. It could have been a real tragedy." He rocked her gently while he whispered into her hair. "I'm so proud of you." He turned her face to him and kissed her lovingly. "My Wonder Woman!"

He wanted her to live with him, she needed her own space. They compromised. He moved in with her until _their _place was ready. Two weeks after the fire, Steph said good-bye to her neighbors, turned her keys over to Dillon and walked to the Mercedes carrying her brown bear cookie jar. Ranger opened the door and she saw that he had put a baby seat in the back of the car. Taking the jar from her hands, he gently buckled it into the car seat. With tears streaming down her face, she laughed, flung her arms around his neck and told him, "I adore you."

3 . 2 . 1 . 0

One of their favorite things to do was to go out dancing with the Merry Men and their girlfriends. Tonight they were celebrating Tank's birthday and had arranged a surprise party for him. Tank wanted no part of a big party so Lula told him that the four of them were going out to celebrate quietly. They'd start with dinner at Tank's favorite seafood place down the Shore in Manasquan, then dancing at a little club, The Cave, in Belmar.

Ranger had reserved the entire club for the night, reserved motel rooms, and arranged for designated drivers. Lula, Steph, and Connie had planned the party. There would be decorations and party favors, unlimited food and signature drinks, a live band, and lots and lots of guests. Ranger had called in contract workers to fill in for the Merry Men from the Trenton, Boston, and Miami offices so that they could also attend. Friends and family had been flown in from all over the place. Tank's quiet birthday celebration had turn into one hell of a blowout!

Right now though, Steph was having a small panic attack. All the plans had gone off without a hitch and by the time they got to the club, the party would be in full swing. Tank and Lula were waiting for Ranger and Steph to pick them up, Steph was dressed to the nines, and the only missing element … was Ranger. He was supposed to have been home hours ago, but had been called out on an emergency at one of their largest and most influential clients.

Steph had put Tank's gifts in the trunk, had laid out Ranger's clothes and was wearing a path in the living room carpeting. Each cell phone call went directly to Voice Mail and his car was off the monitors since he had turned off the GPS so that Tank wouldn't know about all the party planning trips to Belmar.

They had an 8pm dinner reservation and it was almost 6:30pm now. If they left right this minute and didn't hit any traffic or stop lights, they might make it. She didn't want to leave without him, but she might have no choice. Three more minutes and she'd have to go, pick up Tank and Lula and head for the restaurant. They might make their reservation, and she'd wring Ranger's neck when he finally got there.

It wasn't like him not to call. If he didn't call her, he always called the Control Room and they'd funnel the message up to her. But tonight … nothing. She had to admit to herself that she was starting to worry. This was so unlike him now. She was standing in the middle of the living room when she heard the elevator doors ping open. _Thank God_, she thought. _Now I don't have to kill him!_

The apartment door slammed open and Ranger stalked in, shedding his clothes on the way. "I'm sorry, Babe. I tried to call you but the phone wouldn't cooperate. It had a slight accident but I picked up a new one on the way upstairs. I'm gonna hit the shower. Would you call Tank and Lula and tell them we'll be on our way in a few minutes?" He gave her a kiss on the lips as her passed her, "You look good enough to eat!" He gave her his wolf grin. She shook her head as she followed him into the bedroom, and while he dumped his phone and keys and emptied the contents of his pockets onto the bed, she made the call.

She heard the shower turn on and she leaned against the bathroom doorway, watching him shave. He playfully crooked a finger at her but she laughed and shook her head, 'No.' He finished and was stripping off the rest of his clothes when his cell phone rang, earning him a warning look from Steph. He grinned at her, "Would you get that, please." And he stepped into the shower.

Steph went back to the bedroom and grabbed Ranger's phone. "Hello."

A male voice answered, "Ricardo Manoso, please."

"I'm sorry. He can't come to the phone right now. Can I take a message and have him call you back?"

There was a momentary hesitation before the voice said, "Tell him, Lazarus."

"Is there a phone number? Hello?" She snapped the phone closed. _What's with men and their horrible phone manners? _She wondered. _And how odd was that? Not "Tell him Lazarus called." Just Lazarus. Strange!_

The shower turned off and Ranger came out of the bathroom toweling himself dry. He quickly slipped into his clothes and returned to the bathroom to brush his teeth. Steph picked up her purse and wrap, checked her makeup in the dresser mirror, reapplying her lipstick.

"Hey Babe?" Ranger called. "Who was that on the phone?"

"Some guy who asked for you. He said to tell you Lazarus. Isn't that stra …"

Steph heard the water glass shatter on the tile floor. "Ranger? Are you okay?"

In the bathroom Ranger gripped the edge of the sink so tightly that his knuckles turned white. His heart rate doubled and his breathing became ragged. He raised his head and looked into the mirror … into his own eyes … into the eyes of a dead man.

They were happy, and they were in love, and they were building a life together.

They had become friends, lovers, and partners. They were inseparable.

They had been together exactly nine months, three weeks, four days, twenty-one hours, and thirty-six minutes … when everything went to hell.

TBC …

Ranger and Steph would like me to thank you for all the wonderful reviews. They read them to each other as they soak in the new tub. They would like to know if you would like smut in each chapter. They will be more than happy to accommodate your wishes if you do. If you would, please let them know in your review. Thanks … The Review Whore!

Carlos, no aguanto mas...quiero sentirte enterrado ya mismo. Carlos I can't wait anymore...I want to feel you buried in me right now.


	4. Chutes and Ladders!

_Disclaimer: All characters belong to Janet Evanovich, except the ones that are mine._

_Warnings: Graphic Smut, and Language, Angst._

_A/N: Special thanks to Karen, my Editor; Christie, my Technical Advisor for Smut; and all the wonderful readers who leave those terrific reviews!_

* * *

The Name Of The Game!

Chapter 3: Chutes and Ladders!

10 – 9 – 8

It took at least two days for everyone to recover from Tank's birthday party. The Belmar Police had been called so many times that they finally just parked a couple of squad cars out in front of the Club. Several drunken party goers were adamant about going for a midnight swim but luckily, never made it as far as the beach across the street before passing out. On Sunday night, two days after the party, Lester was still MIA, having been seen leaving the party and getting into a limo with his dates, an entire professional women's volleyball team.

Ranger had been quiet during the party and Steph had blamed it on his being tired. After all, he had been away on a job all day and had rushed home to get ready. But he made a humorous toast to honor Tank and chatted with the Tank's family, introducing Steph to them and other guests. They didn't get home until dawn and had crawled into bed and slept half the day away. Well, at least Steph did.

When she finally got out of bed, she found Ranger sitting in his office off the living room, just staring out the window. She leaned against the door frame and watched him rubbing his forehead as if he had a headache. She slipped into the room and stood behind his chair, sliding her arms around his neck and nuzzling her face against his. "Hey Baby, what's the matter?"

He pulled her around onto his lap and wrapped his arms around her. "Nothing now, Babe." He pressed a kiss against her hair then scooped her up into his arms and took her back to bed, making slow, sweet love to her. By the time she got up the next morning, she had convinced herself that she had imagined it all.

A week later, Stephanie woke up alone. At first she thought that he was out running with the Merry Men and had let her sleep in, something that he did if they had had a long night of love making. Last night had been one of those nights. It had felt like he couldn't get enough of her, touching and tasting her again and again. He had murmured words of love and lust against her skin, English, Spanish, hot and hungry, driving her over the edge of reason. They had finally fallen asleep, exhausted but sated, in a tangle of arms and legs, at about 4am. It wasn't until he didn't come home the next night that she realized that he was gone.

It wasn't unusual that he was away; he often went to Boston or Miami for a few days. He would always ask if she wanted to go along and more often than not, she stayed in Trenton. This time, though, he hadn't even told her he was going. She tried his cell phone, but the call went directly to voicemail. When she checked with the Control Room, all they could tell her was that Ranger had taken the Porsche and had left at 7:30am. He had turned off the GPS, and hadn't logged any destination or return time into the computer.

Steph had checked with Tank, Lester, and Bobby, but they hadn't heard from him and didn't seem surprised that Ranger had left with no word to anyone. Her first reaction was to be pissed, but as the long hours ticked away, the anger faded into nerves, and the nerves became fear. She didn't sleep that night, or the next, or the next.

The guys were all in the Break Room when Steph dragged in looking for more coffee. They knew that she hadn't been sleeping, roaming the building all night, sitting in the Control Room, watching the monitors, waiting for Ranger to appear. They knew she was exhausted and stressed and the last thing she needed was more caffeine. Lester stood, took her by the arm and led her to a chair at the table where they were all sitting.

Tank handed her a bottle of water and half a sandwich. "We gotta talk, Bombshell." Steph just looked at the plate.

"Look Slugger," Bobby said carefully, "You know that some of us still work government contracts, right?" She nodded. "Well, sometimes we get a call in the middle of the night and we have to get up and leave right away. Honey, we've all done this for years." He reached across the table and took her hand. "The fact that Ranger didn't make any preparations and didn't tell anybody, says to me that this is no big deal. He'll be back in a couple of days, and then you can kick his ass for worrying you." He picked up the sandwich and handed it to her. She automatically took a bite while she listened to what they were saying.

Lester took over. "Bomber, you two have been on a honeymoon for the past … what … nine months? Ranger put off all his government obligations and farmed out contract work just so he could stay here in Trenton." When he took in the stricken look on her face he hurried on. "No, no Steph. That was a good thing. You both needed that time together. But think about it. Before you two hooked up, how many times was he 'out of town' for months at a time? It's part of his job, it's what he does."

She seemed to be processing what he said while she finished the sandwich, still looking at the plate. She sighed deeply, she was just so tired. "I don't think you guys understand. This was always my biggest fear, that I'd wake up one morning and he'd be gone and I wouldn't know where to or for how long. He knew that. We had an agreement that this wouldn't ever happen. He _promised_ that he wouldn't leave without letting me know, that he wouldn't just … disappear. He knew that it was a deal breaker." She looked around the table at her three friends, tears welling in her eyes.

Tank caught on immediately. "Steph, you have to know how much you mean to him. You don't doubt that, do you?" He studied her face and saw the questions written there. "Ranger would never jeopardize his relationship with you. You're the best thing that ever happened to him and he knows it. He probably just went into automatic pilot and didn't even realize it until it was too late. Now he _can't_ call until the job is complete. I know you're worried, but remember, if anything had happened to him, we would have been notified."

Bobby touched her shoulder. "Why don't you let me take you upstairs so you can get some sleep? I'll stay up there with you so you won't be alone."

She leaned back in her chair and scrubbed her hands over her face. As tired as she was, her spidey sense was screaming and she had an uneasy feeling in her stomach. That alone wouldn't let her sleep, but add to that the dreams that plagued her every time she closed her eyes … No, no … she didn't want sleep to come.

"No thanks, Bobby. I'm gonna try to get some work done. Maybe it'll keep my mind occupied." She got up slowly, moving like an old woman and, taking her bottle of water, went to her office. What she didn't see was the looks that they exchanged as she walked away.

Half an hour later, when Tank went to check on her, he found her asleep on her keyboard. He smiled as he leaned over her and gently brushed the curls out of her face. She'd be pissed when she woke up, finding all those little square imprints on her face. _Where the fuck are you, Carlos? _He wished he knew what his best friend was doing, why he was risking the best thing that had ever happened to him.

Bobby stepped into the doorway and motioned to Tank. They moved out of earshot, afraid to wake her. "He's back on the grid, coming up from D.C. like a bat outta hell." He looked back at Steph's office. "Are you gonna wake her up and tell her?"

Tank stood, hands on hips, his anger clearly written on his face. He shook his head 'no.' "Not before I kick his ass. He's my brother, but if he was in D.C. with that blond bitch I swear to God I'll beat him bloody." Tank turned toward the Control Room.

"You'll have to get in line, man," Bobby grunted.

An hour later Ranger walked off the elevator onto the fifth floor to find Tank waiting for him.

Ranger looked toward Steph's office then at his friend. "Where's Steph?"

"Kinda late to be worried about her, don't ya think? You shoulda thought about her before you took off in the first place. Where the hell you been, anyway?" Tank's anger was evident.

"None of your God damned business! Now where's Steph?"

"Well gee, let me think." The sarcasm dripped off Tank's voice. "Maybe she's wandering the building like a ghost like she did for the last three nights. Or maybe she's sitting in front of the monitors, wishing you to show up on the grid like she did for hours on end. Maybe she's in the Break Room staring at a plate of food that she can't swallow, or up in the apartment wearing a path in the carpeting pacing back and forth from the door to the windows, lookin' for you."

"Can it, Tank! I'm not gonna listen to your bullshit."

Ranger turned to walk away but Tank grabbed his arm. Ranger's face took on a dangerous expression as his head snapped around to glare at his friend. "Where have you been?" Tank's voice was low and measured.

Ranger looked down at Tank's hand holding his arm, then back up to the big man's face. "Maybe I can't take you Tank, but I can do enough damage that you'll regret it."

"You've already done enough damage, Carlos. You listen to me. If you've been with another woman you go down to four and shower and change. You at least give Stephanie the courtesy of not going to her smelling like another woman."

Ranger's blank face fell into place. Tank could see that he was seething with rage. He wrenched his arm out of Tank's grasp and kicked open the door to the stairway, almost tearing it off its hinges. Tank couldn't tell if Ranger went upstairs to look for Steph, or downstairs to shower and change.

7 – 6 – 5

Ranger looked down at Steph, her face pressed into the keyboard. Even in sleep she looked exhausted. He could see the dark circles under her eyes and could almost see the veins under her skin, she was that pale. He knelt down on one knee next to her chair as he brushed the hair out of her face. That was when he noticed the dried tear tracks that ran down her cheeks. She looked so fragile, almost childlike lying there.

This was his fault, he thought. How could he have done that to her? He ran his hand down her arm and took her hand, "Babe? Wake up."

At the sound of his voice she jerked up off the desk. She looked at him, still half asleep and clearly confused. "Am I dreaming?" She reached out and touched his face with her fingertips and he could see her confusion clearly. "You came back," she choked out as she broke into sobs.

He put his arms around her and lifted her gently. "Let's go upstairs Babe. We'll talk up there." He carried her out of her office and down the hall past the Control Room. Every RangeMan on duty watched Ranger carry a sobbing Steph to the elevator.

Once up in the apartment, Ranger carried her directly into the bedroom and sat her gently on the edge of the bed. He knelt in front of her and started to unlace her boots. She looked like she would collapse any second, and every time he looked at her he felt as small stab of guilt for what he had put her through. She put her hands out to stop him and if he hadn't caught her, she would have tumbled to the floor.

He could tell she was struggling to keep him in focus so he knelt on the floor between her legs and put his arms around her to hold her steady. She licked her dry lips before she spoke, her voice small and young sounding. "You promised," was all she said.

He nodded at her. "Yes baby, I did. I should have told you that I was going, but it was just supposed to be a meeting, a couple of hours and then I'd be home. I didn't even consider the possibility of anything else going on. I thought I'd be home for dinner." She stared into his eyes without saying anything else, just waiting for him to continue. "I can't tell you where I was except that it was near D.C. and things got complicated. It's a secured location and I couldn't call or communicate with anybody in any way."

"I was so scared." Tears pooled in her eyes again, spilling over and trailing down her cheeks.

He held her face in his hands and looked into her tear filled eyes. "Babe, I give you my word; I'll never leave without telling you."

Her eyes drifted shut and she sighed as she sagged against him. He laid her back on the bed and undressed her, helping her into one of his t-shirts, then tucking her under the covers. He quickly shed his own clothes and slid in beside her. Instinctively, she turned into him and molded her body to his, slipping one long slim leg between his and wrapping her arm around him. In seconds, she was asleep.

Sleep eluded Ranger and he lay there for hours just watching Stephanie sleep. He remembered when he used to break into her apartment in the wee small hours and sit in that little chair by her bed. Watching the rhythmic rise and fall of each breath became his silent mantra. It was calming and relaxing, better than any meditation technique he had ever tried. Tonight was different, though. Tonight she startled awake every hour or so and would touch him, making sure he was still there. Guilt washed over him each time she woke and he swore to himself that he would make it up to her.

Ranger was true to the promise he made to himself. He made a special effort to show Steph how much she meant to him. He told her if he was leaving the building for any reason at all, and took her with him whenever possible. He would catch her watching him and realized that seeds of doubt, once planted, will grow with almost no attention given to them at all.

Ranger leaned against Steph's office doorway and watched as she reviewed a report. She had a RangeMan employment application in front of her, and a background check next to it. She had a yellow high-liter in hand, marking the salient facts with a flourish, all the while talking to herself about the guy who was the subject of both.

"Yeah, right! Graduate Degree, my ass. You dropped outta high school in Junior year. Pffffftt! Officer in the Air Force? Who the hell are you kidding? The only flying you ever did was on drugs, not a plane. Went to Police Academy! Only if you saw it at the movies!"

"Don't think he can hear you, Babe. Who is this guy?" He couldn't help but laugh at her outrage.

She swung her desk chair to face him. "Martin Kozlowski and he applied for a job here at RangeMan. He went to high school with Valerie and was the biggest stoner in the school. He hangs around with Dougie and Mooner … need I say more? Everybody knows him, so why would he bother to lie? It says right here on the application, in big red letters, that we'll do a comprehensive background check. The big dope! I wish I had one of those great big 'Reject' stamps like they have in cartoons." She acted out stamping the application.

Ranger laughed as he came around the desk and pulled her to her feet and into his arms. He kissed her thoroughly, and then pulled back a little. "You ready for lunch?"

"It's a little early for lunch, isn't it?" She looked up at him and licked her lips. "Unless you had something _else_ in mind of course."

"I've always said that you were my temptation, Babe, but as tempting as you are, Alexander Ramos called earlier and want to sign those contracts today. He invited us to lunch in Deal."

"Us?" She asked with a smile as she wrapped her arms around his neck.

He grinned at her. "I think Mr. Ramos has a crush on you, Miss Plum. Maybe I shouldn't take you with me," he said with a smile. "He might convince you to run away to Greece with him."

She barked a laugh. "I'm pretty sure that won't be a problem. I can't imagine what he could offer me that would make me leave you. You're stuck with me, Mister. Better get used to it."

Ranger was in his zone on the drive to Deal, and when they pulled up to the gates, both Stavros and Costas, Ramos' bodyguards, came out to meet them. Costas opened Steph's door and helped her out of the Porsche, greeting her with a smile and asking for her weapons. Stavros did the same on Ranger's side of the car, adding a pat down after Ranger had turned over his weapons.

They were shown into the house and once inside the door, Steph was enveloped in Alex's arms.

"Chickie Baby, you look good enough to eat." He waggled his eyebrows at her and Steph thought that this is exactly what Lester would be like as an old man. "Come. Come. We talk business in the kitchen. I'm cooking today." Ranger took Steph's hand and they followed one of the world's most ruthless killers into his kitchen to watch him prepare their lunch.

He ushered them to the big table in the kitchen where they sat while he stood at the counter, chopping the vegetables for the salad and stopped in mid slice. He turned to Ranger, "Why do you dress her like that? You try to hide that she's a beautiful woman … why? So that no one steals her from you? Maybe I steal her from you. Eh, Chickie?"

Ranger turned to look at her as she smiled and batted her eyelashes at him. "Yes, Ranger. Alex has something that every woman wants." She smiled sweetly at Alexander and heaved a deep sigh. "A huge walk-in closet filled with designer clothes all in my size."

Ranger narrowed his eyes at her and growled. They all burst into laughter as Alexander brought the food to the table. They sat and ate the delicious meal under the watchful eyes of Stavros and Costas. When the table was cleared, they got down to business, going over the contract line by line. For all that Alexander Ramos was a character; he was an astute businessman with an eye for detail that missed nothing. The contract signed, they toasted it with a glass of ouzo, a colorless, anise flavored Greek liqueur. Swallowing the fiery liquid in a single shot, Steph gasped for breath as tears streamed down her face. A laughing Alexander pounded her on the back, while an amused Stavros brought her some water.

Later, as they made their way to the door, Alexander stopped and looked at them standing hand in hand. "You belong together, you two. You," he nodded toward Ranger, "Panthiras, the panther. Always moving through the dark, hidden, alone… And you, Stephanie, Selini, the moon. Pale, bringing light to the darkness. Yes, you are good together." Stephanie's hand automatically went to the pearl and she lifted it for Alexander to see. He nodded, "The perfect thing for you Selini." He kissed her hand and winked lecherously. "If he doesn't behave himself, you come to me. I show you how a man should treat a woman." She kissed the old man on both cheeks and hugged him good-bye.

In the car, on the way back to Trenton, Steph turned to Ranger. "Can I ask you a question?"

He nodded without looking at her.

"How come you agreed to do this job for Alexander? You said that you'd never work with anyone who didn't operate within the law. Alexander Ramos has an international reputation as a gun runner and killer and God knows what else. So why?"

He was quiet for so long that Steph thought he wouldn't answer at all. "I owe him." Steph waited for him to say more, but he didn't.

"Are you gonna tell me what?"

He cut his eyes to her. "He kept you safe. He took you to his home, he had his nephew take care of you, and he sent his personal body guards to keep you safe. This was the least I could do to repay that." He reached for her hand and lifted it to his lips. "And by the way, we're getting you different uniforms."

Steph rolled her eyes. "Oh I can hardly wait. What did you have in mind, a French maid's uniform, a dominatrix, a naughty nurse?

He gave her his wolf grin, "Maybe we could try them all, in private at least?"

4 – 3 - 2

Over the next few weeks Ranger left several times. While he never told her where he was going or for how long, he never failed to tell her that he'd be gone. Each time he came home, he was a little more tense, a little more distracted, a little edgier and it took him longer to settle back into his routine. There were phone calls at odd hours and she caught bits of conversation that sounded anything but business related. Steph would wake up during the night, alone in their bed and would find Ranger sitting in the dark. The world's most even tempered man now was moody, snapping at her, then apologizing, making love to her at night and ignoring her during the day. When she asked him what was wrong, his answer was always the same, "Nothing," and it frightened her.

This last time that he left, his phone had rung in the middle of the night. He answered it while still lying in bed. Stephanie couldn't hear the conversation, but she could tell it was a woman's voice. When Ranger realized that Steph could hear, he immediately got up and went into the dressing room, closing the door and lowering his voice. She sat up, leaning against the headboard and waited for him to come out. She didn't have to wait long. He came back to the bedroom fully dressed in faded jeans, boots, and a pale blue shirt with the sleeves rolled up. He had a duffle bag that he tossed on the chair and he came to the bedside table and took his watch, strapping it on his wrist. He picked up his gun and tucked in the back of his jeans, got the duffle and muttered, "Gotta go." He walked out without kissing her or even looking at her.

By the time she got out of bed, he was gone. Steph went to the window that overlooked the garage ramp, and minutes later, she watched the Porsche tear out of the garage and into the night. She watched the tail lights travel all the way down Haywood until he turned, headed for Rt I95.

The next morning Stephanie walked into Tank's office and closed the door. "Got a minute, Tank?" Her voice sounded so tired.

"Sure, Bombshell. Sit down."

She sat herself in one of his guest chairs and played with the pearl hanging around her neck. Tank looked up from the paperwork on his desk and studied her. He could see the change in her, just in the past couple of weeks.

"What can I do for you?"

"You can tell me what's going on."

"What do you mean, Steph?" He leaned back in his chair and crossed his legs, placing one booted foot on his knee and bounced the pencil he was holding on the boot sole. He knew damned well what she was talking about, hell everybody in the place knew.

"You know I'm talking about Ranger. He's tense and withdrawn. He's changed. He leaves and doesn't call me or you. I wake up in the middle of the night and find him sitting in a chair, staring at me. I need to know what's the matter. Tank, I'm scared."

Tank was silent for a minute, then blew out a breath. "I don't know what to tell you. He's a complex man Steph. Maybe you're just getting your first close up look at who he really is?"

Her eyes cut to his and irritation crept into her voice. "Please don't patronize me, Tank. I'm not stupid. I see you and Ranger with your heads together. Do you think that I don't notice that you shut up the minute I come close? Everybody in the place has seen the changes in Ranger … It's like he's angry all the time, jumping down peoples throats. They're asking me what's going on and I don't have any answers." She looked at him pointedly.

"What makes you think that I do?"

"You're his best friend. You've know him longer than anyone else here. He trusts you and confides in you, you're the one listed to contact in case anything happens to him."

The big man shook his head, "Steph, I'm sorry. I don't have any answers for you. You'll have to ask him yourself. I really don't know what's going on."

She got up and went to the door, her hand on the knob. She half turned back to him. "If you did know," she said softly, "would you tell me?" Tank just stared down at the pencil in his hand. She had her answer.

A soon as she closed his office door, Tank broke the pencil and fired the pieces across the room. Why couldn't he make Ranger see what a fool he was? It was a good thing that Hector had left RangeMan Trenton. Hector adored Steph and wouldn't have stood for this. He would have hurt Ranger. Tank rubbed his aching head. He had no fucking idea how to fix this.

- 1 -

This time when Ranger came back, he was a different man. He was cold and remote, like a tightly wound spring, the tension kept just below the surface. He was dangerous, quick to anger and no one wanted to be the one to set him off, afraid of what he might do. He used excessive force on skips, made no effort to keep his temper in check, and used his fists with no provocation. If Tank didn't know better, he would have thought that Ranger was on drugs.

And now this! Tank knew there would be hell to pay. At the very least Ranger would beat the shit out of the guys who had screwed up last night's redecorating job. Not that they were really at fault, but Ranger needed someone to blame for the mess. Their intel had been bad and as a result, two RangeMen had been shot and one of the druggies was dead. It had been a real FUBAR'ed job. They had been awake for almost two days, the last 16 hours dealing with the cops and complaints and threats of lawsuits from the building's owners and Ranger was beyond furious.

When Ranger stepped out of the elevator onto the fifth floor, silence descended onto the room and all RangeMen looked elsewhere, afraid to make eye contact. Steph had gone to dinner and then returned to her office to work and wait for him. The familiar tingle told her that Ranger was near and she turned to find him, relieved that he was back safely.

Her eyes found his as he stripped off his Kevlar, and he stilled for a minute, watching her. His eyes, cold and black, made her shiver and something close to fear coursed through her. Some primal instinct told her to flee, but his look held her in place, unable to move. The eye of the tiger, and she was his prey.

Never taking his eyes from hers, he pushed his automatic rifle into Cal's hands. The very air around him was charged and the men backed away, afraid to interfere. His purpose was all too clear as he stalked across the room to Stephanie, ripping the files from her hands and throwing them aside. His mouth was in a thin cruel line and he breathed raggedly, nostrils flaring with each breath. She tried to take a step back from him but he grabbed her upper arm and dragged her toward the elevator.

When the doors opened he shoved her against the back wall and pointed the remote at the camera. His eyes slid down her body, from her eyes to her mouth and she unconsciously licked her lips. Her breathing was ragged, her heart pounded wildly in her chest and she felt her nipples harden and strain against her clothes as his eyes focused on her breasts.

With a low growl he reached out and pulled her against his body, his mouth finding hers in a bruising kiss. She tried to pull away, but he threaded his hand into her hair, holding her almost painfully to him as he ravaged her mouth. With his free hand he opened his utility belt and let it drop to the floor, then ran his hand down her leg to her knee and lifted her leg to wrap it around his. Her little skirt had ridden up and his hand kneaded her butt, then stroked roughly over the silk of her panties as she whimpered into his mouth.

Strangely turned on and unable to help herself, she yielded to him, incapable of fighting her own desire. She wanted him inside of her, thrusting into her as hard as he could. He had lost control and she was spiraling after him.

She kissed him back with matching lust and ferocity, fingers curled into his shirt, holding him to her. They stumbled back against the wall, breaking the kiss. He grabbed the neckline of her shirt and ripped it right down the front, buttons flying. It wound up on the floor along with the shreds of her bra.

The door open and Ranger lifted her, his hands under her ass as she wrapped her long legs around his waist and toed off her shoes. She gave a cry when he lifted her higher, his mouth finding her nipple and sucking hard. Her head fell back and her hands fisted into his hair, holding him to her, as guttural, almost animal-like noises escaped her. She ground herself against him, frantic with need for him.

He carried her across the hall, oblivious to the cameras recording them, and kicked open the apartment door. Slamming it shut, he pinned her against it with his weight, his mouth again on hers, their tongues dueling for control. His hand fisted her panties and in a second, they were gone. His fingers found her core, slick and wet, and she moved against him, clutching him, her fingernails digging into him so hard they drew blood.

The unmistakable sound of his zipper sliding open made her quiver and her muscles clinch. He lifted her, then roughly pulled her down onto him and he groaned as he slammed into her in one long, hard stroke. He took her hard and fast, pounding her into the door over and over again, grinding against her, taking her higher and higher. When he sank his teeth into her shoulder, she fell over the edge and came hard, her muscles clinching him, bringing him with her.

He leaned his face against hers as they gasped for breath. Slowly, still buried in her, he slid down to his knees, her legs still wrapped around him. Her head fell onto his shoulder as aftershocks shuddered through her. Finally, he pulled out of her and sat back against the door, his head back and his eyes closed, while his breathing returned to normal. Neither one of them had spoken a word.

They sat like that for several long minutes until he stood and grabbing her by the arm, pulled her into the bedroom. Stripping her skirt off of her and shedding his own clothes, he pushed her back onto the bed and took her again. Finally sated, he pulled the blankets over them and fell asleep with his arm around her and his head on her breast.

During the night he woke her to make love to her again and again. Slowly and sweetly, his hands and mouth traveling over her body as if he were trying to memorize her. This was her Carlos, the man she loved and who loved her. They still hadn't spoken a word, they didn't need to. She was lying on top of him, her face hovering over his. His touch was so gentle, almost reverent, that it brought tears to her eyes and they fell onto his face, looking like they were his tears. He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her head to his shoulder, and they slept.

- 0 –

She awoke to the sound of the shower running and she smiled to herself as she stretched her aching muscles. She had just about convinced herself to join him, when the water shut off. She plumped her pillow and leaned back, yawning, to wait for him. A few minutes later he came out of the dressing room looking like he had just stepped off a magazine cover. She smiled lazily at him and said only, "Yum!" as she held out her arms to him.

He didn't even look at her as he walked over to the bed and stood at the foot, hands on hips. "Look, Steph. We need to talk." His voice was as flat and emotionless as his face. "I'll come straight to the point. This just isn't working for me anymore." She sat up, her heart stuttering and her voice trapped in her throat. "I probably should have told you before, but this whole little domestic scene is getting old. It's time for you to move on. I already have." He reached over, took his watch off the night table and strapped it on his wrist.

"Ella will pack your stuff and ship it to you. Just let her know where. You can have the furniture, too."

He picked up his jacket and slipped it on, finally looking at her. "Stephanie, lose the wounded doe routine. It's not like you're a victim here. You can keep the car and the clothes, and the jewelry is worth big money. You can find another job. I'll give you a glowing recommendation. Hell, after that lap dance, you could make a fortune in any 'Gentleman's Club' in town."

"You'll need some money until you find someplace to live, so here." He reached into his pocket and took out a wad of cash and tossed it on the dresser. "You need to be out of here by 5 o'clock."

He walked to the bedroom door and opened it. He started to walk out, then turned back. "Oh, leave your keys on the sideboard on your way out." And he was gone.

She sat, staring at the empty doorway, trying to breath.

They had been happy and in love.

They had been friends and lovers and partners.

They had been together exactly eleven months, two weeks, four days, nineteen hours, and thirty-one minutes.

And now it was over.

TBC …

So, what does Steph do now? Where does she go? Who does she turn to? She really needs your opinions and ideas. Thanks for all of your wonderful reviews. Steph, Ranger, and all the Merry Men can't wait to read them. What? Oh, the MM want to know why you don't mention them more often in your reviews … they're just shameless! Lester said he'd take his shirt off for you. Thanks!!!!


	5. Solitaire!

**Disclaimer: **They all belong to Janet Evanovich and I'm just playing.

**Warnings: **Angst, all 12 Books

**A/N**: Thanks to Karen, my World Class Editor and friend, and to Christie, who keeps me crazy and laughing. A special thank you to all the wonderful readers who read and reviewed Game last week. You Ladies ROCK!

**The Name Of The Game!**

"_Stephanie, lose the wounded doe routine. It's not like you're a victim here. You can keep the car and the clothes, and the jewelry is worth big money. You can find another job. I'll give you a glowing recommendation. Hell, after that lap dance, you could make a fortune in any 'Gentleman's Club' in town."_

"_You'll need some money until you find someplace to live, so here." He reached into his pocket and took out a wad of cash and tossed it on the dresser. "You need to be out of here by 5 o'clock."_

_He walked to the bedroom door and opened it. He started to walk out, then turned back. "Oh, leave your keys on the sideboard on your way out." And he was gone._

_She sat, staring at the empty doorway, trying to breathe._

**Chapter 4**: **Solitaire!**

For the rest of her life, Steph could never say how long she sat there, frozen, staring at that empty doorway. Minutes or hours, she couldn't tell. It wasn't until she couldn't ignore the pain in her chest that she realized she had been holding her breath … waiting. Waiting for him to come back, to laugh and tell her it was all a bad joke, to say something … anything … to make it better.

When she drew a ragged breath, she was hit by a pain so sharp that she put a hand to her chest to ease it. She knew it was her heart breaking, she could feel it shatter. Now she understood why people said someone had died of a broken heart because her heart was breaking and she was dying. She was sure of it. For all the accidents and mishaps of her life, she had never felt pain like this.

Ranger's words hung in the air, echoing around the room, bouncing off the walls. "…not working for me…" "…time to move on…" "…wounded doe…" "…Gentlemen's Club…" They stabbed her over and over again. She was still frozen, still couldn't move, couldn't speak … couldn't believe it had happened.

Finally, feeling sick and dizzy, she climbed out of bed and stumbled to the door and out into the apartment. She had to find him, to ask him why. He had to tell her what she had done wrong. She needed to know. Dazed, she wandered through each empty room, but she was alone.

She walked back into the bedroom and looked at the bed she had shared with him. The comforter and blankets lay tumbled on the floor, flung aside during their passionate lovemaking last night. He had been so tender, so gentle, so loving. _What had that been? A farewell performance?_ she thought bitterly.

Her thoughts were fuzzy and she couldn't keep track of them. He had told her to leave. But this was home. Where was she supposed to leave to? Where was home now? _Pack_, she thought, she had to pack and she started for the closet. As she passed the dresser she caught a glimpse of herself in the big mirror and realized that she was naked. _Clothes, I've got to get dressed, I can't leave like this_. A hysterical giggle bubbled up in her throat at the thought of leaving, naked, with all her clothes in the suitcases. _No … shower first_ … _then clothes_.

She was still laughing as she started pulling dresser drawers open because, suddenly, she couldn't remember where she kept her underwear. The laughter quickly choked her and she leaned her hands flat on the dresser while she dragged breath after painful breath of air into her lungs. Her eyes fell onto the money that Ranger had left for her. She didn't pick it up, just nudged it with her index finger. It was all hundred-dollar bills; there were thousands and thousands of dollars there_. Well, _she thought, _I must be a better fuck than I realized_.

Stephanie backed away from the money, her stomach rolling, and fled into the bathroom. The scent of his Bulgari shower gel hit her like a punch and she stumbled, bumping hard into the doorjamb. The pain jolted her out of her stupor a little, and she took a step back as the room started to spin and her knees went weak. She leaned against the doorframe with her eyes closed, gulping air until everything stopped tilting.

Turning on the shower, she realized that there was no way she could use that gel, the signature scent of the man who didn't want her anymore, so she rooted around in the linen closet, looking for soap. What she found were the hotel shower gel and shampoo freebies that she had so diligently collected whenever they traveled, and they had traveled a lot in these last eleven months. Ranger had laughed at her when she had dashed back down the hall to their room in London because she was afraid she had forgotten those bottles. Some people, she explained to him, took pictures to capture their memories. It was the scents that evoked them for her. Roratoa smelled like vanilla, Paris like lemon grass, Capri smelled like the ocean. From then on, he always made sure that she had her 'memories in a bottle'.

She took another deep breath and looked at herself in the mirror. She saw a deathly pale, wide-eyed woman who looked absolutely lost. Her eyes slid from her face down to her neck and shoulders, painted with the bruises that his mouth left on her body. Down to her breasts and belly with the shadows made there by his fingers; down farther still to her thighs where their mingled juices had dried on her skin. A long time ago Ranger decorated her with similar marks and had told her that she look used. It struck her then, the bruises on her body, the money on the dresser … he had treated her like a whore. She felt that sharp stab in her chest again at the thought.

Stepping into the shower, she stood under the pounding stream until the hot water ran out, and still stood there letting the icy water run over her skin. She washed automatically and shampooed her hair. She wished she could wash away the feel of his mouth from her skin, the feel of his hands in her hair. She wished that the sound of his voice would swirl down the drain with the soapy water.

Drying her hair with one of the big fluffy towels, she realized that this would be the last time. The last time she used this towel, the last time she looked into this mirror, the last time she brushed her teeth or did her hair here. When she thought about it, none of these things were really hers. When her blow dryer died, Ella had gotten her a new one. Ella bought her toothpaste and her deodorant, her soap and hair gel. Well, that made it easy, none of it belonged to her, she didn't have to pack any of it. She scrounged around in the drawer and came across an old scrunchie that she had bought forever ago. She would take that and she slipped it on her wrist.

Picking up her makeup case, she filled it with all her regular makeup. She left the stuff she wore on those distraction jobs. She wouldn't need that anymore, unless, of course, she took a job in a 'Gentlemen's Club'.

Back in the bedroom, she rummaged through her lingerie and pulled out a couple of old bra and panty sets, everything else Ranger had paid for. She put one set on and tossed the others onto the bed. All the socks were new, same with the hose, pajamas and nighties, teddies and camisoles …

Ella always had such a good time shopping for the things that she knew Ranger and Steph would like and Steph thought back to the first time that Ella had gotten something for her. Steph had found the pink bag sitting on the bed and had leaned against Ranger's office door, swinging the bag on the tip of her index finger. "Are you trying to tell me something," she had asked playfully. Ranger had looked confused and came over to look into the bag. He had given her a wolf grin and had pressed her back against the door. "Time to play dress-up," he had whispered into her ear, and had chased her into the bedroom. Steph had often thought that if she owned stock in Victoria's Secret, she'd be a wealthy woman based on their purchases alone.

With an amazing calm she opened the closet door and took a steadying breath before she stepped inside. The intimacy of her clothes mixed in with his was like a snapshot of their too brief life together. Her blouses hung with his shirts, sleeves touching as if they were holding hands. One of her dresses next to one of his suits looked as if they were dancing, the hood of her sweatshirt touching the shoulder of his … her head on his shoulder. She blinked away the tears the stung her eyes and swallowed that damned lump in her throat.

She hunted through all her things, her uniforms and dresses, slacks and shirts, before she unearthed an old pair of jeans and a couple of sweaters that she kept for emergency skip chasing. No use in getting her uniforms torn up or covered in goop when she had old clothes that she could just throw out when they got ruined. They'd do fine for now … she couldn't wear anything that he had paid for.

She rooted around some more and found an old denim jacket that she could wear, but came up empty handed on shoes. The only things she found that she had paid for herself were FMPs. She couldn't very well wear them with her jeans … not that she wanted to take them along anyway. They were Ranger's favorite pair, the ones she had worn when she had given him that lap dance and the ones he asked her to wear when they … she felt the lump forming in her throat again. _Stop it, Stephanie_, she yelled at herself, _have some dignity!_

She heard the first rumbling of thunder as she left the closet, closing the door softly behind her. Leaning back on it, she surveyed the room, trying to figure out if she had forgotten anything. The night table drawer held her small photo album and birth control pills. She added them to the very small stack of her belongings that sat on the foot of the bed.

Steph went in search of her big leather purse. It could usually be found wherever it landed when she came in the door. She went into the hall but no bag. It wasn't in the kitchen or living room either. She knew that her brain was foggy and her thinking wasn't very clear, and guessed that she was probably still a little shocked … whatever the reason, she couldn't figure out where the damned purse was. She massaged her temples and suddenly got a clear picture of her bag. It was in her office, in the bottom drawer of her desk. Well, it wasn't _her_ office anymore.

Coffee, she needed coffee, she decided and set up the coffee maker. She sat down in the kitchen and tried to figure out how to get that bag. She didn't know if Ranger was still in the building so she couldn't go down and get it herself. The last thing she wanted to do was run into him, or any of the guys for that matter, and the thought of the cameras picking her up peeking around corners was just too humiliating. She'd had enough of that for one day. She could call Ella … but then Ella would come up here and ask what was wrong and she's have to tell her because she couldn't lie to Ella and then Ella would cry and she would cry. No, she couldn't call Ella. She wanted to leave here with her head held high, her pride intact, not a weeping mess.

She sat on a bar stool and waited for the coffee to brew. Rex came out of his soup can to investigate and twitched his whiskers at her. "Sorry big guy, you missed breakfast," and she gave him a grape and a carrot. He stuffed the grape into his cheek and hustled back to his bed. Steph folded her arms on the counter and rested her chin on them, watching Rex through the side of his cage. "Well buddy, it looks like it's just you and me again. I'm sorry, but you're gonna be losing your home, too. Ranger bought you this Habitrail for Christmas and it stays here. But I'll get you a new house, I promise."

She had just finished her first cup of coffee when the house phone rang. She stared at it for a minute, then lifted the receiver, afraid of who might be on the other end. "Steph? You there?" Hal's cheerful voice rang out.

"Yeah Hal. I'm here." He couldn't possibly know what was going on. His voice was way too chipper.

"Listen, Steph. I need to know whether the Van Lenten file is finished."

It seemed like she had done that file a lifetime ago instead of only yesterday and she had to think for a minute before she figured out where she had put it. "Ummm… Oh! It's in the big file cabinet under 'Open Cases'."

"Are you okay, Steph? You don't sound like yourself today."

"Don't feel like myself Hal." She had a thought. "Could you do me a favor? I left my purse in the desk. Could you just send it up in the elevator for me? I'd really appreciate it."

"Sure Steph. I'll send it right now. Are we gonna see you down here today?"

"No Hal, not today." _Or any other day for that matter_, she thought. A sob escaped her and she quickly covered it with a cough. "I have some things I have to do."

"Okay, your bag will be on its way in a minute. Thanks, Steph."

"Bye, Hal."

She fought the tears that stung her eyes. She really wanted to have an opportunity to say good-bye to all these men who had become her friends. They had welcomed her with open arms, had protected her, worked with her, trained her, laughed with her, sympathized with her struggles, and celebrated her victories. She wasn't just losing her home today; she was losing a huge part of her family.

_Stop it, Stephanie! _She ordered herself._ You have to stop thinking about it. Just get your shit together and get the hell outta here in one piece. Then you can break down_. _You survived Dickie, and you survived Morelli, and by God, you'll survive Manoso, too. _

She went to the apartment door and steeled herself for the cameras that would record her as soon as she stepped out. She opened the door and stood in the hall, arms folded over her chest, waiting for the elevator. The minute or two she waited felt like an hour and when the doors pinged open, she calmly picked up her big black leather bag and walked back into the apartment.

Steph dumped her purse out onto the bed. She'd use it as her duffle since she didn't have anything of her own anymore. She took her Sig, her stun gun … no, not hers … Ranger's? RangeMan's? Whatever … she would put them on the sideboard with the Rangeman ID, credit card, cell phone, and keys when she left. It struck her, as she took the clip out of the Sig, that she had forgotten her little Beretta Cheetah. That _was _hers, bought with her own money. She hadn't carried it in forever and she knew it wasn't in the gun safe so she rummaged through the dresser looking for it. She found it in the drawer with all the jewelry boxes … She stared at those boxes for a long time.

She never really wore any jewelry other than earrings and a watch, and then the pearl, of course. She never even owned anything expensive except the engagement ring and wedding band that Dickie had given her. But Ranger had taken such pleasure in giving her beautiful things that she couldn't say 'No'. Strangely, she never even thought about the value of the jewelry at all, it had never once crossed her mind. What she did remember though, was the expression in Ranger's eyes every time he had presented her with a gift. She could remember where they were and what they were doing and what was said, and how she felt every single time. The very first thing he had given her were his own diamond studs. She remembered how she felt when he had put them in her ears himself.

Opening one of the beautiful blue Tiffany cases, she touched the ruby and diamond earrings that he had given her to wear with that amazing red dress that Alexander Ramos had sent her. There was a matching necklace in the drawer, too. There was a tennis bracelet and sapphires, a Rolex for work, and a dainty diamond dress watch, an antique silver and turquoise set, the stunning aquamarines that he bought because they matched her eyes. She found the empty case from the necklace that the guys had given her at her party. That was the one thing she would have taken, but Stella had it. Still, she added the empty box to her pile of things she was taking with her. It was a drawer full of thoughtful gifts … or were they payments for services rendered? She decided that it didn't matter; she wouldn't take any of it.

How had she missed that he didn't love her … that she was a … what? A temporary distraction? Is that what he meant when he told her that his life didn't lend itself to relationships? That he couldn't stay interested and when the novelty wore off he'd move on? No, that couldn't be true. He couldn't have made love to her the way he did, shared so much of himself with her if this was just a passing sexual infatuation.

Maybe she had just bored him. After all, the guys had told her all about the type of women he used to get involved with. They had all been tall blonde, big-breasted models and socialites. Maybe it was because she had presented a challenge? Maybe it was just the thrill of the chase? Maybe he was slumming with the 'Burg girl? Maybe it was to see if he could lure her away from Morelli? Maybe, maybe, maybe … None of the questions had any answers, and her head ached from trying to figure it all out.

There had been the cars and the clothes and the gifts for her family … riding lessons for Mary Alice and a new computer for Angie. When her Mom's stove died, Ranger had sent a contractor to help her design the whole new kitchen. There was a workshop for her Dad and he sent Grandma Mazur on a singles cruise for folks her age. Hell, he even sent some business Albert's way so that Val could quit work and stay home with Lisa.

He had done such wonderful, thoughtful things for her. He brought her coffee in bed every morning, he shampooed her hair in the shower because he knew she loved how it felt, held her in his arms and massaged away the cramps when she had her period, always made sure she had a fresh stash of TastyKakes in her cookie jar. Was it all faked? Was it a roll playing game? Had she just been so blinded by her love for him that she only saw what she wanted to see? She wished she could shut her racing brain off before she drove herself crazy.

She arranged the jewelry boxes neatly in the drawer and slid it closed. She felt so oddly detached from everything, kind of like she was watching herself on TV. She walked through the apartment, straightening things and looking for anything that she should take. There really wasn't anything that was hers. She looked out the living room windows a final time. It was a nasty day, the perfect backdrop for a breakup or a breakdown. Angry black clouds roiled across the sky and rain slashed against the windows. The weather reflected the mood inside perfectly. It was as if Mother Nature was shedding the angry tears that she couldn't. She sighed and turned away.

A quick scan of Ranger's office turned up nothing except her bank statements and credit card bills. As she took them off his desk she looked at the photo he kept there. He always said it was his favorite. Cal had snapped the picture while trying out a new camera with a telephoto lens. She was sitting on the hood of his Porsche and Ranger was standing between her legs. His fingers were threaded into her hair, holding it back from her tipped up face; her thumbs were hooked into the back of his belt, holding him close. He was looking down into her face and they were smiling joyously at each other. Cal had taken the picture just as Ranger was about to lower his head to kiss her.

Stephanie turned the heavy silver frame over and slipped the picture out, leaving the frame on his desk. Ranger wouldn't miss it, he'd probably have Ella collect all the photos and throw them out anyway. He said that she could have the furniture, which meant he wasn't going to keep it. He wouldn't mind her taking a single picture.

Back in the bedroom she loaded everything into her purse. How sad was that? Almost everything she owned in the whole world could fit into that bag? At least when she had her own place, she had her own stuff, and she would again. It almost killed her, but she made the bed. She straightened the sheets and shook out the indentations in the pillows, then pulled the blanket and comforter back on and smoothed them into place. She stopped at the door and looked back at the room, how could she have been so wrong?

In the kitchen, she put her cup into the dishwasher and cleaned the coffee pot … she didn't want Ella to think she didn't care. She wiped down the counter and neatly folded the kitchen towel, like she had done every morning. She got out Rex's exercise ball and deposited him inside, letting him roll around the kitchen floor while she cleaned out his Habitrail, taking it apart, washing and drying each piece, and stacking it on the floor.

Her brown bear cookie jar sat on the counter, looking at her. "Don't worry," she told it, "you're coming too." One of her earliest childhood memories was of the bright yellow cookie jar in her Grandma Mazur's kitchen. Her grandmother would pull a chair up to the counter and little Stephanie would climb up and carefully lift the lid and put it on the counter, reach deep into the jar and wrap her fingers around a cookie … a treasure. Whether it was a triumph or a tragedy, it was celebrated with that cookie jar. The pale blue jar in her mother's kitchen held an unlimited supply of chocolate chip, oatmeal, and sugar cookie love, the substitute for hugs and kisses in the Plum house.

The very first thing that Steph had purchased for her very first apartment was her brown bear cookie jar. While she had never kept cookies in it, usually condoms or her gun, it still was a metaphor for love and care, and it symbolized home to her.

Stephanie carefully emptied all of the TastyKakes out of the cookie jar, stacking them neatly on the counter. Ranger certainly wouldn't want them, but maybe Ella would give them to the guys. They were always raiding the stash that she had hidden in her office, and this could be her parting gift.

She had been thinking about whom to call to come and pick her up. She could call her Dad, but she didn't want to just drop this on him. She wanted to tell him what had happened, not just shock the hell out of him. She could call Lula, but didn't want to put her in an awkward position with Tank. Steph was sure that Tank knew about this, and didn't want Lula to have to choose sides. Connie was out of town and Mary Lou had two kids down with chicken pox and pride wouldn't allow her to call Joe. Christie was the logical choice.

Steph picked up the cell phone from where she had left it on the sideboard, only to find that phone service had already been shut off. She took a deep breath and blew it out slowly. She had held it together this long, she wouldn't allow herself to lose it now, and she carefully placed the phone next to the keys. Well, she'd just make the call from the deli around the corner. If she used the house phone she'd have to ask for an outside line and whoever was working the phones would probably ask where hers was. She didn't want to explain, and she refused to lie.

_Okay, this is it_, she told herself. She picked up Rex and wrapped the other sweater around the bottom half of his exercise ball and sat him just inside the top of her bag. She slipped into her denim jacket, slung her bag over her shoulder and tucked the cookie jar into the crook of her arm. Standing at the door she looked back at her home. A wave of sadness so acute that it took her breath away washed over her and it took every iota of strength she had left to hold back the tears.

She turned quickly and leaned her forehead against the door, eyes closed, fighting for control but her memories wouldn't let her. She saw herself hiding out here from the Slayers, Ranger finding her in his bed. Sleeping in his arms, negotiating their deal, breakfasts and dinners here, laughter, she and Ranger on the couch, on the floor, in their bed, picture after picture of their whole life together flashed across the inside of her eyelids. She shut off the light, opened the door and stepped out into the hall, pulling the door shut on the last year of her life.

With her head down so that the guys on monitor duty couldn't see her face, she pushed the call button for the elevator, wishing it to hurry. A lifetime later the doors pinged open and Steph got on, tucking herself into the corner, praying that it would take her straight to the garage and not stop on 5 or 4. She breathed a sigh of relief when it finally slid to a stop on the lowest level. Without waiting for the doors to fully open, she bolted out, straight into Bobby's arms.

"Hey Slugger, where are you off to in such a rush?" He steadied her with his hands on his arms.

She just averted her face, unable to speak around the lump in her throat.

"Steph? What's the matter with you? You can't go out barefoot in this weather, you'll catch your death." He tried to look into her eyes, but she couldn't meet his.

"What's going on? You're as pale as your pearl!"

She gasped. "Oh My God, Bobby! I completely forgot." Stricken, she looked up at him. "I need a favor."

"Anything Slugger, just tell me what it is." The concern on his face and in his voice was clear.

She struggled to juggle the cookie jar and Bobby took it from her hands and held it while she dragged the heavy gold chain from around her neck. She took his hand and dropped the necklace into it, curling his fingers around it. Later he would recall how warm the necklace felt in his cold hand. It still carried her body heat when he dropped it into Ranger's.

"Ranger's cars are still here so I know he's still in the building. I need you to take this and put it into his hand yourself. It's important. He has to … he has to know … that … I didn't …" Her voice broke and tears threatened to spill over onto her cheeks.

It hit him like a punch. "Oh Jesus Christ! Oh God, no … Steph! There has to be a mistake. There has to be …"

"Please Bobby, I'm begging you," she ground out through clenched teeth. "I don't want to humiliate myself on camera with everybody watching. I need to get out of here, now." She was trembling so hard he could see her shaking.

He backed her into a little niche where the cameras couldn't see her. "Okay, okay! I'll take it, but promise you'll wait for me right here and I'll drive you wherever you want to go." He dragged off his jacket and wrapped it around her. She nodded, and he took off up the stairs.

Unable to hold off the tears any longer, Steph dropped his jacket and bolted up the ramp to the gate, pressing the manual release. The gate swung open slowly and Steph was through and out on the sidewalk in seconds. The wind and ice-cold rain hit her so hard it took her breath away, and she was soaked almost immediately. All she had to do was make it across the street and around the corner to the deli.

Blinded by the driving rain and her own threatening tears, she swiped at her eyes and dashed across the street. Out of the blinding rain, a car appeared, horn blaring, its tires splashing her with the flooding rainwater in the street. As she stumbled back to avoid the speeding vehicle, she lost her grip on her brown bear cookie jar and it tumbled onto the asphalt, smashing at her bare feet.

She stared down at the pieces in disbelief for several long seconds. The fragile hold she had on her self-control shattered along with the cookie jar and she was consumed by gut wrenching sobs. She knelt in the street, trying to retrieve the broken pieces of her life. The jagged edges sliced her fingers as she hurried to collect the shards.

Something, she never knew what, pulled her eyes upward. There, standing in front of the windows on the second floor, was Ranger. He was staring down at her, arms folded over his chest. The coldness and indifference in his face was more than she could bear. She staggered to her feet and ran blindly.

She never saw the car that hit her.

They had been friends and lovers and partners.

And now they were strangers.

They had been apart exactly four hours, twenty-seven minutes, and thirty-eight seconds.

TBC …

Well, Steph is pretty devastated and needs your support. She's hurt emotionally and physically. Did the MM know? And if they did, should they have told her? Where does she go and who does she turn to now? Steph needs your wonderful reviews to help her get through this. She says that your reviews are better than Birthday Cake! Thanks for reading and reviewing.


	6. Connect Four!

_Disclaimer: All characters, with the exception of Dr. Nickolas Ramos, belong to Janet Evanovich. I'm just playing._

_Warnings: Angst, Language, all 12 books._

_A/N: Special thanks to my fabulous editor Karen, without whom there would be no Chapter 5. If you haven't already, please read and review her story, 'Living On A Prayer' on FF. It's fabulous!_

_Rating: NC-17_

_**The Name Of The Game!**_

_Blinded by the driving rain and her own threatening tears, she swiped at her eyes and dashed across the street. Out of the blinding rain, a car appeared, horn blaring, its tires splashing her with the flooding rainwater in the street. As she stumbled back to avoid the speeding vehicle, she lost her grip on her brown bear cookie jar and it tumbled onto the asphalt, smashing at her bare feet._

_She stared down at the pieces in disbelief for several long seconds. The fragile hold she had on her self-control shattered along with the cookie jar and she was consumed by gut wrenching sobs. She knelt in the street, trying to retrieve the broken pieces of her life. The jagged edges sliced her fingers as she hurried to collect the shards._

_Something, she never knew what, pulled her eyes upward. There, standing in front of the windows on the second floor, was Ranger. He was staring down at her, arms folded over his chest. The coldness and indifference in his face was more than she could bear. She staggered to her feet and ran blindly._

_She never saw the car that hit her._

**Chapter 5: Connect Four!**

It seemed that the whole storm had gathered directly over Haywood Street. Thunder rumbled and roared, echoing off the buildings, and nonstop lightening streaked across an eerie green sky. The afternoon turned dark enough that the streetlights came on and howling winds slashed the icy cold rain against everything in its path.

As the lights came on, the driver of a speeding car was able to see Steph run blindly across the street, right into his path. He slammed on his brakes, locking them up, skidding sideways into the oncoming lane. The back bumper of the car struck Steph a glancing blow that sent her down hard, onto her hands and knees, and then rolled her into the curb. Her temple struck the cement with enough force to daze her, and she lay in the street, the river of running water washing over her, for several long seconds before she rolled over and tried, unsuccessfully, to get to her feet.

The young driver jumped out of the car and ran to her in a panic. "Oh, Jesus Christ, lady! You ran right out in front of me! Shit, are you okay? Oh fuck! My dad is gonna kill me! You dented the car." He was babbling as he leaned over her. "Lady, you're bleeding … you gotta get to a hospital. You want me to call an ambulance?" She shook her head 'No.' The last thing she needed was EMTs and police and the reporters who would inevitably show up to record her latest humiliation.

All she wanted to do was get away from here, get away from Ranger as fast as she could. She fought with herself not to look up at the window again, not to see his cold stare. "Just help me up," she groaned to the kid. The shaken boy helped her to her feet and led her out of the street. She limped onto the sidewalk and leaned against the building, clutching his arm until the dizziness passed.

Traffic had backed up behind the kid's car and other drivers had gotten out to see what was going on. A small curious crowd gathered while the worsening storm crashed around them. Thunder rolled across the sky and lightening flashed almost nonstop. She was edging toward the corner when she heard someone call her name. Another voice chimed in saying he was a doctor and offered help. _Shit! _All she wanted to do was escape.

The storm intervened for her when a bolt of lightening struck a transformer on a light pole overhead. The huge explosion sent a shower of blue sparks and debris onto the people below. Covering their heads and running, the crowd scattered and Steph made good her escape around the corner to Franklin Avenue. Head down and jacket wrapped around her, she realized that she was more than a block away from the deli and the phone she had been headed for.

Whoever had called her name would probably come looking for her and she definitely didn't want to be found. She stumbled down the side of an office building to the alley that ran behind the buildings facing Franklin. Here were the delivery entrances and dumpsters, back doors, emergency exits and fire escapes.

Staying close to the buildings to steady herself, she had staggered more than half way to her destination when a wave of dizziness overcame her and she stepped up into a doorway to catch her breath. She was soaked to the skin, bruised and a bloody mess … literally. Her palms were scraped and bloody and so were her knees that showed through her ripped jeans. Blood was dripping from her head where she had hit the curb. Leaning back against the doorframe, she painfully slid down the wall to her butt as another wave of dizziness washed over her. She rubbed her hand over her face to try to clear her eyes, to no avail.

Her bag was still over her shoulder and she pulled it around to her lap, opening it to check on Rex. Her vision was blurry but she could see that he was still in his exercise ball, his fur wet and matted. He looked at her, his whiskers twitching as if to ask what the hell was going on. "I'm so sorry, big guy," she whispered to him. "I can't seem to do anything right. But I promise, I'll get you warm and dry soon." She stripped off her sodden jacket and wrapped it around her bag, protecting it from the driving rain.

Try as she might, she couldn't find the energy to stand up. She was so cold that her teeth were chattering and her body was beginning to stiffen up. Putting her head on her knees, she wrapped her arms around her legs and curled herself over her purse and Rex. She had only been there for a minute and was startled when she felt the door open. A deep voice shouted, "Didn't I tell you God damned junkies to stay away from here? Get outta here ya crack whore!" A heavy boot shoved her out of the doorway and she tumbled down the step onto the concrete.

The man stepped out of the doorway and grabbed her by the back of her sweater, dragging her to her feet, and giving her a push down the alley. "Don't come back or I'll call the cops!" he shouted after her as she limped away.

The glow from the security lights over each door made a path to the end of the alley and Steph knew that all she had to do was follow the lights. Dumpsters loomed up to block her as she slowly made her way along the walls. Finally, dizzy, freezing, and exhausted, she couldn't force her feet to take another step and she slid down the side of a dumpster, curling up against it. She couldn't hear the thunder, she couldn't hear Bobby calling her name, she couldn't hear anything.

**Z-Y-X**

Bobby came out of RangeMan just in time to see the car skid across the street straight at him. He threw himself to the pavement and rolled to safety behind a parked car. He hadn't seen the skidding car hit Stephanie and throw her to the pavement, so he watched as the panicked driver jumped out of the car and ran over to a body lying in the street. Bobby's heart stopped …Stephanie! The gathering crowd blocked his view, preventing him from seeing if she was moving. Bobby looked up at the second floor window where Ranger had been standing when he handed him the pearl necklace, but it was empty. Relief washed over him when he saw Steph helped to her feet, even if she was bloody and limping. He called her name, then maneuvered his way through the stranded cars and gawkers and headed across the street toward her.

The transformer exploded almost directly above his head, and Bobby turned away to protect himself from the shower of sparks and debris. When he turned back around, Stephanie was gone. Looking up and down the street, he scanned the onlookers for her and was doing a quick check of the cars along the street to make sure she hadn't gotten into one of them. Bobby couldn't help but notice that one of the onlookers was obviously searching too, looking in cars and through the onlookers. When the man hurriedly separated himself from the crowd, jogged across the street and around the corner, Bobby instinctively followed him.

Bobby turned the corner and watched the man who had stopped about fifty feet up the street. He was studying the rain swept sidewalk and street. Turning, he saw Bobby and yelled to him, "Hey, you see any blood? I was following a trail and lost it."

Bobby immediately backtracked and found the trail in the walkway leading to the alley. "Over here!" Bobby yelled to him and started down the narrow passage, following the trail of bloody streaks on the wall. The stranger followed close behind and when they stepped into the alley, he went to the left side and Bobby to the right.

They tried each door but found them all locked, and checked around each dumpster until a flash of red caught Bobby's eye. "Got her," Bobby called as he stripped off his jacket and covered her limp body. Sitting her up, he cradled her to his chest. He pulled out his cell phone and hit a number. "Hal, found her. Bring my truck to the far end of the alley behind Franklin, stat!"

By now the stranger was kneeling next to them and was holding Steph's head in one hand. When he tried to probe her head wound, Bobby grabbed his arm. "I'm a doctor," the man said simply. "I need to check that goose egg." Steph stirred and groaned in pain at his touch. "Steph," he said sharply. "Stephanie! Open your eyes! Look at me!"

"How do you know her?" Bobby asked suspiciously.

His focus was on Steph, but he smiled as he replied. "My Uncle introduced us. My name is Nikolas Ramos." Bobby raised an eyebrow but said nothing but, "Bobby Brown."

Ramos nodded and continued his examination, checking her eyes and heart rate. He looked at Bobby. "I need to get her to a hospital and have her x-rayed. She may have a concussion, and she's definitely in shock. St. Francis is close and I have privileges there." He moved to take Steph out of Bobby's arms.

His words filtered through Steph's semi-conscious state and her eyes flew open in panic. "No! No hospital! I won't go!" She struggled to get out of Bobby's arms but he gently tightened his grip on her.

"Okay Slugger, don't worry, no hospital … it'll be fine." He exchanged looks with the doctor.

"We have to get her someplace where I can examine her," Ramos said quietly. "She could have internal injuries, even broken bones. At best she has deep bruising where that car hit her. I have to do a more complete assessment and all these cuts need attention."

Bobby nodded at him. "I'm taking her to my place. You can follow and look at her there." Bobby looked down at Steph, shivering violently in his arms. Ramos nodded in agreement.

Hal screeched to a halt out in the street, spotted the group, and backed down the alley at top speed. He threw the door opened and helped Bobby get into the truck, still cradling Steph. Hal shed his coat, wrapping it around a shivering Steph and shot Bobby a questioning look when he spotted Ramos.

"Hal Latham this is Dr. Nikolas Ramos." Hal looked at Bobby in surprise and raised his eyebrows in an unspoken question. As Ramos climbed into the backseat of the truck, Hal made a gun with his thumb and index finger. Bobby gave a slight nod as Hal closed the doors, got behind the wheel and cranked the heat up to HIGH.

Haywood had been cleared of cars and spectators and they dropped Ramos at his car. While they waited for him to follow them, Steph's eyes fluttered open. "Bobby? Bobby, where's Rex? He's wet and cold. I promised him I'd take care of him and I didn't." She started to cry, huge wracking sobs shook her already shivering body. "He can't die, Bobby. He's the only thing I have left." She turned her face into Bobby's chest and sobbed exhaustedly.

Hal and Bobby exchanged a look, Bobby furious and softhearted Hal, stricken. They both knew that even on his worst day, Ranger could take them out, even on their best day. But at this point, they both would have gladly tried to kill him … slowly and painfully, for what he was doing to Steph.

"Shhh, it's gonna be okay, Slugger. Rex is fine." Bobby crooned as he gently rocked Stephanie back and forth.

"Where's Rex?" Hal mouthed and Bobby shrugged and shook his head almost imperceptibly. He knew how much the little rat meant to Steph, but right now, his focus was on getting her safe and dry. "Get us to my place," he instructed and Hal took off.

Hal flew through the streets at almost double the speed limit. He was an evasive driving expert and Bobby had no doubts about his ability, even on the wet pavement. He wanted to get Steph to his house as fast as possible, too. Hal checked the rearview mirror a couple of times to make sure Ramos was able to keep up with them. He had a relaxed grip on the steering wheel, he was in his element; but a muscle was working overtime in his jaw. He didn't know how, but he would get even with Ranger for this one. Whatever Ranger's issues, Hal didn't care; there was no justification for hurting Steph like this. She was like a little sister to him, and no one messed with his little sister and lived to talk about it.

Hal wheeled into Bobby's street and pulled into the driveway. Before he had even opened his door, Ramos came to a screeching halt behind him and hit the ground running, medical bag in hand. They both helped Bobby out of the car, carrying an unconscious Stephanie in his arms.

Bobby tossed his keys to Ramos, who opened the front door, while Hal grabbed Stephanie's purse from the floorboards of the truck. Hal watched Ramos out of the corner of his eye but didn't say anything as he fell in step behind them on the pathway to the front door. _'This is about Steph'_, he reminded himself. _'Not about any gripe you may have with an international gun smuggler'. _

Bobby carried Steph inside and directly up the stairs to the guest room. He deposited her gently on the bed and immediately went to retrieve the first aid kit and an armload of towels from the bathroom. Hal stood in the bedroom doorway watching Ramos examine Steph, unwilling to trust him alone with Steph.

"We need to get her out of these wet clothes and warm her up, fast. Can you make some tea or something like that?" Ramos addressed Hal without looking at him.

"Sure thing. Once Bobby comes back," Hal responded calmly. He was not about to leave Steph to be undressed by a stranger, even if he was a doctor. While he waited for Bobby, Hal pulled the sopping wet jacket off Steph's purse and put the purse on the floor. The top-heavy bag tipped over and a cold, wet, and thoroughly pissed-off Rex, still in his exercise ball, rolled out across the room and came to a stop against Bobby's boot. Hal and Bobby both breathed a sigh of relief and silently thanked God that they wouldn't have to break any more bad news to Steph. The girl had already been through enough.

They were all soaking wet and Bobby handed sweats and towels to the guys. He gently lifted Steph's head, putting a towel under her dripping hair. Her head wound had stopped bleeding, but the rest of her body was covered with bloody cuts and scrapes.

Hal took charge of Rex and went to the kitchen to make the tea leaving Bobby and Ramos in charge of stripping Steph of her wet clothes. Between the two of them they cut her sweater and jeans off of her and wrapped her in a blanket. While Ramos did a more thorough physical exam, Bobby started to clean the cuts and scrapes on her hands, knees, and feet.

Ramos glanced over at Bobby. "Medic?"

Bobby nodded. "Physician's Assistant for RangeMan, now."

Finally, Ramos sat back and put his stethoscope back in his bag. "I don't suppose you want to tell me what she was doing out in the middle of the street in that storm barefoot?"

Bobby chewed on that for a minute, and then shook his head. "Don't suppose I do."

"Look," Ramos tried again. "I'm not trying to pry, but as a doctor I need to know if she's suicidal or on drugs or …"

Bobby's head jerked up and he looked at Ramos. "No, nothing like that!" He said incredulously.

"Well, she doesn't appear to have any broken bones but she's going to have one hell of a bruise on the back of her leg where the car hit her. She's going to be stiff and sore and I can't give her anything for pain because I'm pretty sure that she has a mild concussion. I also don't like the fact that she can't stay awake." He pulled the blanket down to uncover her chest and ran his knuckles up and down her sternum, making her whimper in pain and curl away from his hand.

Hal came into the room with the tea, and seeing Steph in pain, grabbed Ramos by the front of his shirt, dragging him up off the bed. Hal put his face close to Ramos' and hissed, "Do not hurt her again. She's been through enough."

"Hal," Bobby said softly, "let him go. It's okay; he was testing her pain response." Then he turned to Ramos. "Thank you for your help, Doctor Ramos. We all appreciate everything that you've done for Steph and we'll tell her that you were here. We can handle it from here on out." Bobby 'bum's rushed' the doctor out of the room and down to the front door.

"Wake her every two hours and make sure she can carry on a lucid conversation. If you can't wake her, or she seems disoriented, get her to a hospital immediately." Ramos reached into his medical bag and pulled out a card, handing it to Bobby. "If she needs me, any time, day or night, don't hesitate to call." Bobby took the card and put it on the table next to the door and ushered the doctor out, watching to make sure he drove away.

As soon as he pulled around the corner, out of sight of Bobby's house, Nikolas Ramos pulled out his phone and called his Uncle Alexander.

**W-V-U**

Bobby toed off his wet boots in the foyer and stripped his shirt as he went back up the stairs. Leaning against the guest room doorway, he watched while Hal climbed onto the bed behind an almost awake Stephanie and propped her up against his chest. Wrapping his arms around her, he held the mug of hot tea so that she could sip it, then lean back against his shoulder.

Steph looked around the room bleary eyed, spotting her purse on the floor. "Rex!" was all she got out. She shot up out of Hal's arms, and immediately gasped in pain, collapsing back against him. The blankets had fallen away from her and Hal shot Bobby a panicked look when he realized that Steph was naked. Bobby watched as a flustered and red-faced Hal hurriedly pulled the covers back up over her again. Bobby held up a finger. "Be right back," he said to Hal. Bobby returned in less than a minute with a football jersey, and between the two of them, slipped it over Steph's head, preserving her modesty … and Hal's.

"Where's Rex? Did I lose him too, Hal? Why can't I hold onto anything I love?" Bobby gritted his teeth and looked away from her.

Hal watched helplessly as a huge tear slid down her cheek. He patted her shoulder and reassured her. "Rex is just fine, Steph. He's down in the kitchen and he's dry and warm and safe. I fed him a carrot and a grape and gave him a can to sleep in." Steph seemed to doze, sniffling every once in awhile.

Bobby's cell chirped and he checked the caller ID. "I have to take this. Don't let her sleep yet, Hal. Keep her awake until I get back." Hal nodded and Bobby flipped open his phone and snapped, "Talk!" as he walked out of the bedroom and down the stairs.

Hal thought for a second. "Listen, Steph. Does Rex have a favorite kind of can? I mean juice or fruit or … what?" He needed to keep her awake a little while longer.

"Soup," she mumbled and appeared to doze off.

"Okay, soup," Hal said, louder than necessary. "What brand of soup, Steph?" He gave her a little shake.

She opened her eyes and blinked, wrinkled her brow, thinking. "Campbell's. Progresso cans are too big and he doesn't like that." She nodded her head, agreeing with herself, than closed her eyes again.

"Good, Campbell's. I like that one too. So what kind of soup should it be? Steph? I need to know what kind of soup. We have to make Rex comfy."

"Yeah. Ummm … Chicken and Stars … I like that one. Or the one with Batman shapes …. Ohhhhhh, Batman …" and she started to cry, sobs wracking her.

"Fucking shit!" Hal muttered under his breath. That did it, she was full out crying now, huge sobs wracking her body. She sat up and pulled her knees up to her chest, wrapping her arms around them. She rocked herself and started to keen, a high-pitched, heartbreaking sound, voicing her grief. Hal put his hand on her back, offering the only comfort he had to give. He sat with his head tipped back onto the headboard, tears dripping down his face, too. He would kill Manoso! He would fucking kill him or die trying.

It felt like hours later when Hal finally got off the bed and settled Stephanie back onto the pillows. She had finally stopped sobbing, but the tears still ran down her face. She should have been exhausted but she laid there, eyes open and unfocused, the tears flowing. Hal and Bobby were at a loss as to what they could do to help her, short of wrapping her in an electric blanket to warm her up. She was grieving and there was nothing they could do to ease her pain. They asked her if they could call anyone for her, or get her anything, or do anything for her, but the answer, when they got one, was always 'No.'

She stayed like that the rest of the night and most of the next day. She would answer when asked a question, would swallow when given a drink, but she refused food, seemed unable to sleep, and didn't even have the energy to wipe the tears from her swollen eyes. Either Hal or Bobby was always with her, feeling totally helpless, but they were there for her in case she needed anything. Finally, she closed her eyes and slept.

Bobby wearily dragged himself down to the kitchen and poured what seemed like his thousandth cup of coffee. He stretched and sank into a kitchen chair. Hal sat across the table, watching Rex in his exercise ball, rolling happily around the floor. He looked at Bobby. "You talk to him?" Bobby nodded. "And?" Hal asked sharply. Bobby leaned his elbows on the table and scrubbed at his eyes with the heels of his hands. He looked at Hal and shook his head slightly, lifting his shoulder in a shrug. "Son of a bitch!" Hal got up and corralled Rex, placing him back in his new Habitrail. He turned back to Bobby. "Is there anything we can do?" Bobby just shook his head sadly.

Stephanie slept for thirty-six hours, waking each time Hal or Bobby roused her. The guys were in the kitchen, eating breakfast, when Steph wandered in, obviously stiff and sore and more than a little lost. They both jumped to help her into a chair. She sat, hunched over, like she carried the weight of the world on her shoulders. Hal quickly made her some toast and scrambled eggs, Bobby got her coffee. She chased the eggs around the plate and nibbled on the toast.

She was quiet for so long that when she spoke, the guys jumped. "Where are my clothes? I looked upstairs but I couldn't find them." She was looking at Hal.

Bobby cleared his throat. "Well Slugger, the truth is that we had to cut them off you. You were soaked and freezing and …"

"So you and Hal cut my clothes off?"

"NO!" Hal leaped up, knocking his chair over. "Bobby and the doctor did. Not me!" His face was bright red and his eyes were wide. "I wasn't even in the room!"

Steph had to smile at how sweet he was. "You called a doctor?" She looked back and forth at them.

"No. A doctor witnessed the accident and came here to treat you when you refused to go to the hospital. Dr. Nikolas Ramos. He said he knows you."

"Alexander Ramos' nephew, Niko." When she didn't say anything else, Hal and Bobby just looked at each other and shrugged.

Steph sat with her arms wrapped around herself. "Do you have any aspirin or Advil? My head is killing me." She shivered suddenly.

Bobby leaned over and put his hand on her face. "Jesus, Steph, you're burning up. You're all flushed. I thought it was from all the crying but you have a fever. He left the kitchen but came right back with an afghan and wrapped it around her. "Let me go find a thermometer."

To fill in the silence, Hal started to talk about Rex. He proudly showed Steph Rex's new palace, a state of the art Habitrail. It had tubes and tunnels, an observation booth, fluorescent exercise wheels, two slides, four ladders, two water bottles, three food dishes and a hamster hammock. It amounted to a four-bedroom hamster house with all the bells and whistles. The only thing missing was a butler and it looked like Hal had volunteered for that position.

Bobby came back and stuck the thermometer into Steph's mouth. He took her pulse while they waited. When the thermometer beeped, he took it out of her mouth and looked at it with raised eyebrows. "Steph, you have a pretty high temp here. How do you feel?"

Steph snapped at him, "I feel like shit, Bobby. How do you think I feel?" She was immediately contrite. "I'm sorry; I don't mean to take it out on you." She thought a second. "My head is killing me, but it isn't from the bump, it's inside my head. My body aches from all the bruises, but it hurts to breathe. I thought it was from crying so much, but now I'm not so sure."

He gave her a couple of Advil and a bottle of water. "I want you to drink as much water as you can, okay? And go get back in bed. You need to rest."

Steph wobbled when she stood and grabbed onto the table to balance herself. Hal picked her up gently and carried her upstairs and into the guest room. He put her down on the edge of the bed and pulled back the covers. "Hal, I've been in this shirt for days. Do you think that you could find me something else to wear, and I really need a shower."

"Okay Steph, let me see what I can come up with." He helped her up and into the bathroom. "Tell you what, leave the door open and talk to me every once in awhile so I know you're okay. I promise I won't peek." He could feel his face turning red, and couldn't look her in the eye.

Steph put her hand on his chest, over his heart, and he covered it with one of his big paws. "Thank you for taking such good care of me Hal. I must have done something very good to deserve a friend like you."

He gave her a tight grin and hurriedly left the bathroom. He felt like he had been punched in the gut and he stopped halfway across the bedroom to look back at her. _If she only knew the truth_, he thought, _she wouldn't call him a friend at all. _He went to find her something to wear.

Her body felt a little better once she was clean, but her heart and mind still ached. She climbed into bed and her thoughts turned to Ranger. He said that he had already moved on and she wondered whether he was sleeping alone in their bed or was somebody else sleeping on her side. She still wished she knew what she had done wrong, why all the men she loved left her, why she was alone … again.

She didn't remember falling asleep, but when she woke up she felt like there was a boulder on her chest and it hurt to breathe. Her mouth was dry and she tried to get to the bathroom for some water. Bobby found her lying in the middle of the floor when he came to check on her.

**S-T-R**

Disembodied faces and voices floated in and out of her Twilight Zone fever dreams, Bobby, Hal, Ella, Niko, Lula, Tank. She tried to talk to them but her mouth wouldn't form the words. Nightmares overtook her and she tried to run from Karvic and stop Stella from shooting Ranger, but her feet were made of lead. She saw Rex in his exercise ball floating down the river of rainwater toward the sewer. She couldn't reach him. Ranger, arms crossed over his chest, his eyes cold and his expression indifferent. She tried to talk to him, but she had no voice.

She had to fight to take a deep breath and when she did it hurt. Someone lifted her so that she was sitting, telling her to cough over and over again. She tried, but she was so exhausted. A mask was over her nose and mouth, it smelled and tasted bad. Hands held hers so she couldn't take it off. Needles floating toward her, burning where they pierced her skin, she tried so hard but she couldn't escape them. Why were they torturing her? And the fire … she was back in the warehouse on the river, trapped in that little room, the fire below her, the heat rising, no air, no escape.

She opened her eyes to a dark room, moonlight streaming in the window. He was standing on the other side of the room, deep in the shadows. She couldn't see him, but she knew he was there. She tried to lift her hand, to reach out for him, but her hand was too heavy. She couldn't keep her eyes open, and they drifted shut before she could see him.

A cloth, smooth and cool, moved over her face, down her throat and over her shoulders. It came back again, cooler this time, and moved down her arms to her hands. Her eyelids were too heavy to lift, but she didn't need to see him. His strong arms sat her up, her head on his shoulder, face buried in his neck, and that wonderful, cool cloth moving over her neck and down her back, cooling her… putting out the fire that burned her skin. Those muscled arms that she loved so much lowered her back onto the pillows. He whispered, "Sleep, Babe, everything will be alright," his lips on her forehead and the long fingers tucked her hair behind her ear. He sat in the chair next to the bed and held her hand. She knew, to the bottom of her heart, that everything would be alright … because he said so.

The next time she woke her hand was still in his. Sunshine streamed into the room and she dragged her eyes open to look at him. She turned her head and looked into Bobby's smiling face. "Welcome back, Slugger. We almost lost you."

They had been apart four days, seventeen hours, thirty-six minutes, and fifty-four seconds.

TBC …

A/N: So, was it Ranger or was it a dream? Where does Steph go now? Will Bobby and Hal confront Ranger? Will it make a difference if they do? If you want to see what Hal looks like, the link is listed on my Profile page.

Thank you to all the wonderful readers who took the time to read and review Game. These reviews are what's keeping Steph's spirits up. The more reviews you leave, the better she'll feel! Thanks again! (And go read and review Living On A Prayer!)


	7. Twister!

**Disclaimer:** _All characters belong to Janet Evanovich with the exception of Nikolas Ramos, Stavros, Sophia, and Eleni._

**Warnings:** _Minor angst (doesn't even really qualify), all 12 Books_.

**A/N:** _Thanks for all the wonderful reviews. Thank you to my fabulous Editor/Beta who walks on water! Smoochies, Karen! I love ya!_

_**The Name Of The Game!**_

_A cloth, smooth and cool, moved over her face, down her throat and over her shoulders. It came back again, cooler this time, and moved down her arms to her hands. Her eyelids were too heavy to lift, but she didn't need to see him. His strong arms sat her up, her head on his shoulder, face buried in his neck, and that wonderful, cool cloth moving over her neck and down her back, cooling her… putting out the fire that burned her skin. Those muscled arms that she loved so much lowered her back onto the pillows. He whispered, "Sleep, Babe, everything will be alright," his lips on her forehead and the long fingers tucked her hair behind her ear. He sat in the chair next to the bed and held her hand. She knew, to the bottom of her heart, that everything would be alright … because he said so. _

_The next time she woke her hand was still in his. Sunshine streamed into the room and she dragged her eyes open to look at him. She turned her head and looked into Bobby's smiling face. "Welcome back, Slugger. We almost_ lost you."

**Chapter 6: Twister!**

Steph's eyes widened as she stared at Bobby sitting in the chair next to the bed. She sat up, panicked, and looked around the room in confusion.

"What's the matter, Slugger? What's wrong?" He moved from the chair to the side of the bed and leaned over her.

"Where's… I thought that … I know he was here … Bobby? He was here … right? Please …" She grabbed onto his arm and looked up at him with such desperation that his heart broke for her.

"Oh, Steph …" Bobby looked at her sympathetically and shook his head. "Honey …" He didn't have to finish his thought.

Tears welled in her eyes as he lowered her back into the pillows. "He was so real, Bobby. I could feel his arms … he kissed my forehead, he called me Babe." She closed her eyes and turned her head away from him.

"Steph." He said softly, "Your fever was so high, you were hallucinating. You were rambling about Karvic and Stella and your necklace. You weren't making any sense. Slugger, you really were out of it; you had us all scared."

She knew that Bobby was trying to comfort her, so why were his words so painful?

Hal, standing in the doorway, overheard the exchange. His anger was written all over his face so he turned away before Steph could see him. When Bobby walked out of the bedroom, he found Hal leaning against the wall outside the door.

Bobby had learned a lot about Hal through this. He already knew that the younger man was good at his job and was a dependable employee, loyal almost to a fault. But he had found that Hal was a straight arrow and it bothered him to 'bend the rules.' That he has a soft spot for Stephanie came as no surprise. Every RangeMan was a little bit in love with her.

Bobby put his hand on Hal's shoulder, and Hal turned to him with a stricken look on his face. "How can you stand to her see like that?" he whispered.

Bobby shook his head sadly. "It's just as hard for me as it is for you. We both know what's going to happen. This is kinder than prolonging her agony."

"She's gonna hate us when she finds out, you know." Hal's voice cracked as he spoke.

"Yeah." Bobby replied wearily. "Yeah, she will," and he went down the stairs.

Hal blew out a deep breath and plastered a smile on his face. He went in and sat on the edge of the bed, careful to avoid the IV tube that snaked from the plastic bag of fluid, down into Steph's hand. "Brought you a visitor," he said with a smile, and took Rex out of his shirt pocket and put him onto Steph's lap.

She wiped her tears and stroked Rex with her index finger. "Hey Buddy, are the guys taking good care of you?" Rex sat up and twitched his whiskers at her by way of answering, before burrowing into the blankets on the bed.

"I think he's gained some weight," she said with a smile as she watched Rex exploring.

"Naaah!" Hal replied. "He's just buffing up with all the exercise on the wheels and stuff." He was rewarded by her small smile.

They sat and watched Rex meander all over the bed, then stop and yawn. "Guess he's had enough exploring," Hal quipped. "Come on Columbus, it's bedtime for you." He scooped up the creature and gently deposited him back into his shirt pocket.

"Hal," she said when he was almost out the door, "thank you for taking such good care of him. And me, too."

He gave her his full on smile. "My pleasure, Steph." He left before the guilt had a chance to creep into his face.

Steph eventually drifted off to sleep and woke to find a smiling Niko Ramos taking her pulse. "My favorite patient is finally awake. Tell me, how are you feeling, pretty lady?" He spoke in a light conversational manner while he examined her, checking her blood pressure and listening to her heart and lungs.

"Pretty lady?" She groaned. "I feel like I was hit by a bus and then run over by a garbage truck and I don't even want to think about what I look like." She tried to run her hand through her snarled hair, but gave up but gave up when her fingers got stuck, so she just sat back against the pillows.

"You look beautiful, Miss Plum, I'm sure you always do." He smiled and she rolled her eyes.

She had forgotten how handsome Nikolas Ramos was. He was tall and tanned, his dark lashes framing amazingly blue eyes that crinkled at the corners when he smiled. With an athletic body that he obviously took care of and unruly dark brown hair he was devastatingly handsome. His quick smile, complete with dimples, and expressive face was a very welcome difference from Morelli's cop face and the obligatory RangeMan blank mask. He had gentle hands, too, examining her still-sore head carefully.

"Your bedside manner is petty good, Doctor. Did you have to take classes for that or does it just come naturally?"

"Oh no. I paid big bucks for those lessons." He teased.

When he started to check the IV catheter, she turned her head away and squeezed her eyes shut. She couldn't watch him check the needle in her hand. Just the thought that it was even there turned her stomach.

"All done, you can open your eyes now." He chuckled as she cracked one eye open and looked at him suspiciously.

"So, what are you doing here? I mean aside from the obvious, how did you get here?"

"I was on my way to St. Francis for a conference and the storm had caused some street flooding. I had to detour around it onto Haywood Street. I saw a young woman get hit by a skidding car and I had to stop and see if I could help. So here I am," he said squaring his shoulders as if reporting for duty jokingly, "until you're completely recovered or you decide you want a different physician." He sat, watching the emotions run across her expressive face.

"I don't remember getting hit or really much of anything except leaving RangeMan …" Her eyes lost focus and her voice drifted off as her memories took over. After a minute or so, she shook off the thoughts and looked at Niko rather sheepishly. "I'm sorry … still trying to figure out some stuff."

"It's not surprising that you have no memory of the accident. After all, you took quite a hit on the temple and probably have a concussion. You might wake up tomorrow remembering it all, or it may never come back. I wouldn't worry about it unless you start forgetting other things."

She just nodded at him, fiddling with the edge of the blanket that covered her and nervously chewed her bottom lip. _There were a lot of things that I wish I could forget,_ she thought. He mistook her anxiety as being worry over the memory loss.

"On top of that, you were pretty damned sick for the last three days. You had an infection in your lungs and a very high fever. You responded well to intravenous antibiotics, but you're far from well."

"Was I hallucinating?" She had to find out whether or not Ranger had really been there.

"Think of it as having a nightmare. People who have very high fevers often have dreams and they can seem very real. You thought we were trying to kill Ranger; you were trying to save his life. You fought us tooth and nail. It took all three of us to hold you down so I could sedate you."

"Oh God, I'm so embarrassed." She put her hands over her bright red face.

Niko sat on the edge of the bed and pulled her hands away so he could look into her eyes. He reached out and started to tuck a curl behind her ear but Steph pulled away from him, his actions too heartbreakingly familiar for her. She put her hand up to ward his off. "Please don't do that." She took a breath to regain her composure. "I've never been a very good patient and I'm sor…," she stuttered, looking for something to say.

"You've been a great patient, Steph, really. After all, I'm used to much worse, most of mine bite me."

She looked at him, eyes wide. "What? Excuse me? Did I somehow get this wrong? Are you a Vet?" She looked up at the IV bag to see if there was a dog or a horse on it.

Niko threw back his head and laughed. "No Steph. Don't worry; I'm a 'people' doctor. I'm a plastic surgeon and I specialize in reconstructive surgery for children. I repair a lot of cleft palates and there are times that my little patients don't like my fingers in their mouths." He was still chuckling as he packed up his medical bag.

"That's even worse," she groaned. "So…what? Are you gonna make recommendations for improvements and 'enhancements' for my poor _old_ thirty year old body?"

He gave her a flash of his perfect white teeth. "Your quite young thirty year old body is gorgeous and I wouldn't let you change anything about it, even if you wanted to."

"Oh, you _are_ good. You got your money's worth with those bedside manner lessons." He winked at her and she wondered if this was his normal demeanor or if he was flirting.

"Listen. You eat a good lunch and dinner, and tonight I'll take out the IV, okay?"

"Oh, please, I need a shower in the worst way," she wheedled. "And I need to move around, I'm getting cabin fever. How about if I give you my solemn word to eat and you take it out now? Please!"

He studied her with a smile. "Well, okay, but you have to cross your heart," he said in mock seriousness.

Stephanie couldn't help but smile, as she made an X over her heart with one hand and held out the other to him.

"Okay Stephanie, I'm going to use Dr. Niko's Positively Prodigious Painless Procedure, so close your eyes and it'll all be over in a minute. I'm going to take the tape off now. So tell me, little girl, do you have any pets? You do! A giraffe, you say! Oh my goodness, do you have to get on a ladder to brush his teeth?" Steph giggled at his silly banter. He really was very nice, she decided, and she could see him working with small, frightened children, calming their fears. She was the worst possible patient and he had totally won her over.

"Alrighty! All done." Steph opened her eyes to find an Elmo band aid on the back of her hand and looked at Niko with raised eyebrows. "I'm conducting a seminar at St. Francis and I'm dealing with lots of kids." He shrugged," I came armed. Can I tempt you with a lollipop?" He held up a bag full and waggled his eyebrows at her. "I have them in all flavors, sugar free, guaranteed not to cause cavities?"

His efforts to cheer her up were rewarded with a real smile. "No thanks. Sugar free lollipops are just wrong on so many different levels." She said laughingly and he nodded in agreement as he got up to leave.

"All kidding aside, Steph, you're starting to feel better, but you're far from well. You're very weak and will be for quite a while. And you're going to have breathing problems. You'll need a lot of rest for at least a couple of weeks, and I'm sorry, but you'll have to severely limit your work schedule. You'll have to stay on the oral antibiotics and breathing treatments for at least another week... I don't know when Ranger gets back, should I talk to Bobby or Hal about the follow-up care?

He watched her as the smile faded from her face and she turned her head to look out the window. "I'm not trying to pry, Steph, but I obviously said something that ..." He came back to the bed and sat on the edge, close to her.

She didn't meet his eyes but held up her hand to stop him. "I know. I … I can't tell you what happened … I haven't figured it out myself yet. Let's just say that I don't have anyplace to go when I leave here."

He watched as her defenses cracked and tears welled up in her eyes, spilling over her too pale cheeks. She took a ragged breath that turned into a sob, choking her, and she started to cough painfully. Niko gently put his arms around her and held her against his shoulder while she battled the coughing spasm. When it finally played itself out, she was limp and exhausted. He laid her back against the pillows and put the oxygen mask over her face again and sat while she caught her breath. Finally, she dozed.

Hal and Bobby had come into the room during Steph's coughing fit. They stood quietly by the door, making sure that Niko had the situation under control. It wasn't that they didn't trust him; they knew he would take good care of her. But Steph was their girl, their little sister, part of their family and in both their minds, no one could take care of her as well as they could, because no one else loved her like they did.

Niko walked past the two men out into the hall and motioned for them to follow him and he positioned himself so that he could watch Steph. He stood with his hands on his hips and head lowered for a couple of seconds. Finally he looked at the men. "So who's going to tell me what the hell's going on? Where's Ranger? And why did she tell me that she doesn't have anyplace to go when she leaves here? If I'm going to get her well, I have to know what she's facing, emotionally as well as physically."

Hal and Bobby exchanged a look and each gave an almost imperceptible nod. Bobby acted as spokesman and chose his words carefully. "Steph and Ranger aren't together anymore. It happened suddenly and came as a real shock to her. She left RangeMan with her pride and nothing else.

"That's what was going on when she got hit by the car." Hal added.

Bobby's voice was pained as he spoke. "She has nothing now … no home, no car, no clothes, no phone, no credit cards, no nothing. Except Rex."

"And us." Hal added. "Ranger tried to give her cash to live on, but she wouldn't take it and we don't have any clue whether she has any savings. That's where things stand."

"So do you have any idea what she's gonna do?" Niko looked from one man to the other as they shook their heads.

"She can stay here as long as she wants. We'll make sure that she's taken care of."

Niko thought for a minute or two. "I might have a temporary solution," he said and walked back into the bedroom to talk to Steph.

Early the next morning, a black stretch limo pulled up in front of Bobby's house. The front doors opened and a deadpan Stavros Thermopolis, one of Alexander Ramos' personal bodyguards, stepped out and looked up and down the street. He opened the rear door and a smiling Sophia and Eleni climbed out and went to the trunk to collect a small case and a garment bag, then hurried inside.

An hour and a half later, a showered, shaved, buffed, and puffed, dressed, coiffed and made up Stephanie was carried downstairs by a grinning Hal. He didn't trust that she was strong enough to walk down the stairs by herself, so he swept her up and gave her a lift. He took her into the kitchen to see Rex and deposited her on a kitchen chair, standing back to look at her approvingly.

"Glad to see you looking like you again, Slugger." Bobby said, adding his approval.

Steph snorted. "Right! Like I always look like I just stepped out of a high fashion magazine." She looked down at the beautiful clothes she was wearing, provided through the courtesy of what she now thought of as Alexander Ramos' Magic Closet. She wore cream colored stovepipe slacks with a chocolate brown cashmere cowl neck sweater and butter soft, short brown suede boots with a stacked heel. In deference to her sore head, her hair was done in a loose French braid, the tail tucked under and held with a small jeweled clip.

"Slugger, you're always beautiful to us, even when you're covered in gunk and garbage."

"Thanks Bobby, and thank you for inviting all the girls over last night; I really needed that." Bobby had called Lula, Mary Lou, Connie, Val, and Christie to come and visit with Steph. He had only told them that Steph needed them and they showed up armed to the teeth with Ben & Jerry's, donuts, Cheese Doodles, and tissues. They all sat around and cried with her through three boxes of Puffs Plus and several gallons of ice cream while he and Hal had hidden out in the den. It was excellent therapy and Steph was feeling somewhat better.

"I need to thank you and Hal for everything you've done for me; I don't know how I'll ever repay you. I know you both took personal time off from RangeMan to stay home and take care of me and I hope that didn't cause problems with Ranger. I know how close you guys are, and I understand the loyalty you all have for each other …" She stood up and walked over to look at Rex in his new Habitrail.

Bobby walked up behind her and put his hand on her arm. "Steph, no matter what, you're part of the family too. Nothing will ever change that. Every guy at RangeMan has called and dropped by to find out how you are and if there's anything they can do for you, even the guys from Miami and Boston called." He put his arms around her gently and drew her back against his chest. She leaned her head back against his shoulder and he rocked her gently. "And when you give the go ahead," he told her softly, "the line will form at the door with each and every available RangeMan jockeying for position to ask you out." He planted a kiss on her uninjured temple and was rewarded with a sad smile.

It was true, her room upstairs was filled with flowers and plants and balloons and stuffed animals and funny cards and notes from all of the guys. They had called her and dropped by, most not knowing what to say, but nevertheless, they came.

"I just want you to know that I'd never do anything to make you choose between us, or ask you to do anything that would make Ranger doubt your loyalty to him. I'm so grateful for everything that you guys …" She broke off when tears started to pool in her eyes.

The kitchen door burst open and Cal came waltzing in. "Hey, there's my girl! Good to see you awake. Every time I've been here, you've been playing Sleeping Beauty. How are you feeling?" He gently pulled Steph into his arms and, hugging her to his chest, bent and kissed her on the cheek. "Here, I brought you your mail." He handed her a small stack of envelopes.

They stood around chatting while Steph waited for Sophia and Eleni to finish up her room. They had kindly offered to clean up so that Bobby wouldn't have to. They'd strip and remake the bed, clean the bathroom, vacuum and put in a load of laundry. Steph could hear the vacuuming running as the group talked.

Steph idly opened one of the envelopes and pulled out the papers inside and unfolded them. As she looked them over, a strangled noise escaped her and the men turned their full attention to her. She sat at the table doing a great impression of a goldfish, totally unable to speak. She turned wide eyes to the men and held out the papers.

Bobby took a look at them and his face broke into a huge grin. "Slugger! You're rich!" He showed the papers to Cal and Hal, who immediately high-fived one another and hugged her.

"Steph? Honey, aren't you happy? Steph? Yooo-hooo…" Cal snapped his fingers in front of Steph's face.

"You mean that's really mine?" She looked from one smiling, nodding face to the next.

Bobby pulled up a chair and sat down next to her, taking her hand in his. "Slugger, there was a reward for the arrest and conviction of Vincent Karvic. You captured him single-handedly. You testified at the trial and he was sentenced to life in prison. You get the entire reward. Direct deposit, it's already in your account."

"I can't believe it, twenty-five thousand dollars. I've never had that much in my whole life put together." She gave the guys a goofy smile. This meant that she could rent an apartment and a car, get a cell phone and buy some clothes. She couldn't go nuts, but she could start to get her life back. The excitement buzzed through her.

"Sweetie," Bobby's voice was laced with worry. "Honey, it isn't twenty-five thousand dollars," he held the paperwork up in front of her disappointed face, "it's two HUNDRED and fifty thousand dollars." He smiled and nodded at her as realization struck her. Cal, standing next to her chair, caught her as her eyes rolled back in her head and she slipped to the floor.

The ride to Deal should have been relaxing, but her mind was racing faster than the car speeding down the highway. Intellectually, somewhere in the back of her mind, she knew that there was reward money. But somehow, she had equated that reward with her old ten percent cut of a skip's bail. That she would receive this kind of money simply never crossed her mind. On top of that, this kind of money brought with it a whole new set of problems and responsibilities. If she was very careful, she could live off this for years. On the other hand, it could allow her to splurge for once in her life on something more that a pair of shoes that she really didn't need, or a fancy nightgown at Victoria's Secret.

By the time she arrived at the house in Deal, Steph was exhausted from her mental gymnastics. Alexander wasn't there yet, he was scheduled to arrive from New York in the morning. Sophia and Eleni played charades with Steph and she really hoped that she had just agreed to take a nap. Despite her protests, a blank faced Stavros lifted her effortlessly and carried her up to the beautiful boudoir at the top of the staircase. He deposited her in the dainty little chair by the flickering fireplace and quickly left the room.

Sophia helped Steph to undress and slip into pale aqua satin pajamas, trimmed with beautiful re-embroidered ivory lace and a floor-length matching robe. The beautiful pale aqua satin mules were trimmed in the same gorgeous lace and Steph swore that she had never worn dress clothes as beautifully made as this nightwear. She felt like Cinderella and Sophia was her Fairy Godmother. The only thing missing was the magic wand and the Bibbity-bobbity-boo. And the singing mice, of course.

Eleni set a little table in front of the beautiful French doors that opened onto a small private balcony overlooking the beach and ocean. The brilliant blue sky and bright sunshine made the beach look inviting and Steph couldn't wait to take a walk by the water. The ocean always calmed her and made her feel peaceful and content. Right now, though, she doubted that she would ever feel peaceful again, much less content. That walk would have to wait, she thought. She was so exhausted that she could barely keep her eyes open long enough to eat the delicious lunch that Eleni had brought her.

Sophia and Eleni helped her to the huge four-poster bed with its' miles of opulent gold silk fabric that draped over the top and down the beautifully carved bedposts to puddle dramatically on the floor. She slipped off the robe and the slippers and looking into one of the lovely gilt framed mirrors that lined the walls caught a glimpse of the pale young woman who was climbing into that wonderful bed. She didn't even recognize herself and couldn't meet the sad eyes that looked back at her.

She lay back, propped up by huge, fluffy pillows and Eleni pulled the satin comforter up over her, then she and Sophia quietly left the room. The lavish gold drapes over the French doors darkened the room and the soft light from the fireplace gave everything a soft golden glow. The dainty French provincial chairs and settee, the little tables with the lovely lamps, the carved fireplace surround, the delicate crystal chandeliers … she could tell that each piece in this room was chosen so carefully.

Looking around her, the memories came flooding back. The apartment at RangeMan looked so very different from this room, no delicate charming pieces there. Yet each and every piece of furniture had been chosen with so much thought and care. They had selected each thing together, snuggled on a hundred couches to find the one they both liked, looked at lamps and bookshelves and rugs. She thought that they had had a wonderful time, playfully arguing their preferences over each item. They had each bartered and bargained, usually promising sexual favors to get their own way. It had all resulted in a home that reflected both of them … or so she had thought.

Ranger would drag her into mattress showrooms to try out mattress after mattress. He'd pick her up and toss her, shrieking, onto one, then he would bounce down on top of her while she squealed and laughed, rolling her around on the mattress. He didn't care how many people were around or who was watching … and he showed her a silly side of himself that she never knew existed. Mattress shopping was like their own version of WWF, which Ranger dubbed the Wonder Woman Follies. When a salesperson would appear, he would pull her off the mattress and say, "Too hard!" or "Too soft!" or "Not enough bounce!" and they would dash out the door, hand in hand and laughing.

They both knew the right one when they landed on it. Ranger was lying between her thighs, hands fisted in her hair, kissing her neck when a saleswomen came bustling over to reprimand them for their antics. Her whole attitude changed when Ranger announced, "We'll take it!" just before his mouth came down on Steph's. The saleswoman, who worked on commission, had Steph and Ranger to thank for selling that same over-priced, top of the line set to every single wide-eyed customer who had witnessed the little exhibition and hoped to recreate the same scene in the privacy of their own homes.

Steph couldn't stop the tears that rolled down her cheeks and dripped off her chin or the thoughts that ran through her head. She had so many questions, and not a single answer. How could what they shared not have been love? How could this have happened to her… again? Why couldn't she see it coming? How could she have been so stupid? What was so wrong with her that no one could love her? She slept finally, and dreamed that Ranger was standing in the corner of the room, his expression cold and impersonal, his eyes boring into her.

She woke with a start to find Niko sitting in a chair by the side of the bed. She hated when people watched her sleep, she always drooled, so she cautiously wiped her mouth. As soon as he realized that she was awake he closed the medical journal he had been reading and smiled at her.

"You've been asleep for quite awhile. How do you feel?" He reached over and turned on the bedside lamp while she assessed her body.

"It still hurts a little when I breathe, but not as bad. I'm stiff and sore and my leg hurts like a bitch … I don't think I've ever seen a bruise that big. Leave it to me!" She shrugged in defeat.

Niko moved over and sat on the edge of the bed and pulled his stethoscope out of his bag. He raised her up off the pillows and she bent forward a little. He slid the stethoscope up under her pajama top and asked her to cough several times, then take the obligatory deep breaths. He listened carefully to both sides, front and back, before leaning her back against the pillows.

"I want you to have breathing treatments every four hours for the next couple of days. Lots of rest, eat well, let Eleni and Sophia pamper you. Then, if you're a very good patient, we'll see about springing you from your ivory tower. Maybe get you out for walks on the beach, that okay?"

"More than okay," she nodded gratefully. "I'm not real good at being alone with myself these days. I'm not very good company." She looked at him ruefully.

"Is there anything I can do to help, Steph? If nothing else, I'm a good listener." His genuine concern for her was apparent in his voice.

She moved slowly, trying to find a comfortable position, finally sitting Indian-fashion. Pulling one of the smaller pillows onto her lap, she hugged it to her chest in her classic defensive pose. Someday, she thought, she'd have to figure out why she did that. Maybe the pillow was a shield for her heart?

She leaned forward, her elbows on her knees, carefully moving her sore body. "Lying around just gives me time to think. And I really don't want to think anymore, Niko. I swear my brain aches from it and all I'm doing is chasing my own tail. The more I think the more questions I come up with … and fewer answers."

"Have you had a chance to talk to him?" Niko asked cautiously, gauging her reaction.

Steph didn't raise her head, just studied the edge of the pillow that she was picking at and shook her head. She waited a minute, deciding how much to tell him, then took a deep breath. What the hell, she thought. If it wasn't already, pretty soon the news would be all over Trenton, and once it hit the 'Burg, the news would be all over the world. Niko might as well get it from the horse's mouth.

"There wasn't any discussion. We spent the whole night before mak… well … you know," her cheeks turned bright pink as she blushed, "and he was so …" she cleared her throat. "But in the morning it was like a different man walked in. He was cold and distant, told me it wasn't working for him anymore and that he had moved on and I should, too. He said that I could keep everything that he had given me then he threw some money on the dresser, told me to leave my keys, and he was gone."

She finally looked up at him, "I didn't take anything, you know. Not the money or the jewelry or the car … only what was mine. And everything I owned, fit in my purse. Pretty pathetic, isn't it?" She looked back down at her hands. "I usually learn from my mistakes, it just took me three tries to learn this lesson. I'm not real smart where my love life is involved. But I'm never gonna let this happen to me again. I'm never gonna depend on anybody like that … ever … just me. If you give everything you are to somebody, you don't have anything left for you."

Steph looked around at the room. It was a love nest. Fat, chubby-cheeked little cherubs with little white wings were flying over her head. Beautiful bluebirds, holding ribbons and garlands of flowers in their little golden beaks adorned the pale blue ceiling. The room was furnished with delicate, French provincial furniture, gilt mirrors and lavish draperies, all expensive appointments. Here she was, in a room designed for love, and she was determined that she was never going to let herself fall in love, ever again.

Niko watched her closely. Her eyes not focusing on anything, the far away quality of her voice, he knew she was reliving what had happened that day. Her pain was so raw, so visible, she was so vulnerable, and yet she was trying to be so brave. He realized that he was starting to fall, very hard and way too fast, for the sad-eyed lady who sat in front of him.

They shared dinner together, in front of the fireplace, and then played hand after hand of gin rummy. Steph won just about every hand, sometimes only drawing one card. "Lucky at cards, unlucky at love," she quipped when he commented on her good luck, and she just picked up the cards and shuffled again.

She tired quickly, though, and Sophia helped her get ready for bed, tucking her in. Steph's sleep was haunted by dreams of Ranger's voice telling her to leave, to move on, she saw him standing in the window watching her in the street below. She saw the brown bear cookie jar shatter over and over again.

At some point in the middle of the night, Steph woke up coughing and she couldn't catch her breath. Unable to call for help, her panic only made matters worse. She must have made more noise than she realized because Niko, hair tousled and wearing only sleep pants, came into the room and put the nebulizer mask over her nose and mouth. He climbed onto the bed behind her and pulled her back against his chest, holding her while the medicated mist helped to ease the cough, allowing her to breathe more easily. The whole time he whispered into her hair that everything would be alright and he let his hand drift hypnotically up and down her arm, calming her.

By the time the breathing treatment was finished, Steph had fallen into an exhausted sleep and Niko gently removed the mask from her face. She whimpered slightly and turned in his arms so that her face was pressed against him. Unwilling to risk waking her, he wrapped his arms around her, settling her head against his shoulder, her arm around his waist.

For the first time since she left RangeMan, Steph had a peaceful, dreamless sleep, and she woke the next morning wrapped in Niko's arms.

**TBC …**

**A/N: **So, do you think that Steph should turn to one of the Merry Men? Maybe Steph should turn to Niko? At least she's rich now … so what should she do? Travel? Start a business? Do you think that she'll ever fall in love again? She really needs your support, so leave her a review and let her know what you think her next move should be … Revenge, maybe? How?


	8. Dominos!

_**Disclaimer: All characters belong to Janet Evanovich except Niko, Christie, Costas, Stavros, Sophia, and Eleni … Hey! They're mostly mine!**_

_**Warnings: No angst this time!**_

_**A/N: Thanks to Karen, my fabulous editor who kicks my ass, cracks the whip, and pats my head. Without her there would be no Game! Thank you to all the fantastic readers and reviewers. Without you I wouldn't want to write at all! I'm still a review slut, so please keep 'em coming. To see Niko, check out the link on my Profile Page! Wink! Wink! **_

_**The Name Of The Game!**_

_By the time the breathing treatment was finished, Steph had fallen into an exhausted sleep and Niko gently removed the mask from her face. She whimpered slightly and turned in his arms so that her face was pressed against him. Unwilling to risk waking her, he wrapped his arms around her, settling her head against his shoulder, her arm around his waist. _

_For the first time since she left RangeMan, Steph had a peaceful, dreamless sleep, and she woke the next morning wrapped in Niko's arms._

**Chapter 8: Dominos!**

Steph came awake slowly, realizing that she couldn't move her left arm. It was trapped under something heavy and try a she might, she couldn't pull herself free. Finally dragging her uncooperative eyelids open, she blinked several times to clear her sleep-blurred vision just to make sure that she was really seeing what she thought she was seeing … Niko Ramos' handsome face, only inches from hers. She had been sleeping with her head on his shoulder and their arms wrapped around each other. She realized that she couldn't move because her arm was pinned under him. _Oh Shit!_

He stirred but didn't wake up, mumbling something in his sleep. She was left with the dilemma of trying to escape without waking him; that way neither of them would have to be embarrassed by the situation. If she could just get him to roll over, she thought, she could pull her arm out from under him. A brilliant idea hit her. Well, at least _she_ thought it was brilliant. Very carefully, Steph reached over and lightly tickled his side. He smiled in his sleep and rubbed his arm against the spot. She tried again and tickled him a little harder. He moved, alright, but not the way she wanted. He wrapped his arms tightly around her and turned completely over. She shrieked as she landed on her back with Niko on top of her.

Niko's eyes flew open at her scream, and they were both momentarily frozen in surprise, staring wide-eyed at each other. They heard laughter and turned their heads in unison, to find a grinning Alexander Ramos standing in the doorway with Sophia and Eleni peeking from behind him. He smiled widely at Niko and Steph and started to applaud. Sophia clapped her hands over her mouth to hide her giggles and Eleni pulled her apron up in front of her face. Both maids quickly fled, their laughter echoing down the hall.

"Kalimera, paidia. Nephew, I did not realize that you were such a fast worker. I am proud of you. I will leave you two to your fun." He left the bedroom, shaking his head and chuckling to himself, closing the door behind him.

Niko looked at Stephanie, suddenly realizing that he was lying on top of her. "Oh Christ, Steph! I'm sorry!" He tried to lift himself off her, but found that he was tangled in the sheets and wound up falling off the bed onto the floor dragging the bedding and Stephanie with him. This time, she landed on top of him in a tangle of arms and legs, his hand on her bare ribcage and her knee poised over his family jewels.

Very carefully Niko boosted her up off of him, and Steph wound up sitting on the floor, her back leaning against the side of the bed. Between the two of them they got themselves untangled from the bedding and Niko was finally able to sit up. He leaned against the bed next to her and they turned to look at each other. Steph could feel the heat in her cheeks and covered her bright red face with her hands, and Niko threw his head back and laughed.

She peeked at him through her fingers. "Oh my God! You think this is funny? I could just die!" She wailed as she dropped her hands and grabbed his arm, shaking it. "You have to tell them that we weren't … didn't … that we're not…well … you know!"

"Steph! Don't worry. My uncle adores you. He knows that you're not that kind of girl." He waggled his eyebrows at her. "Now me on the other hand … I'm surprised he didn't threaten to shoot me for trying to take advantage of you." He grinned at her, all white teeth and dimples and Steph had to laugh.

Steph's giggles turned to coughs, luckily not as bad as last night's episode, and she was quickly able to bring them under control. Nevertheless, Niko immediately got the nebulizer, demonstrating how to load it with the medications, and handed her the mask. She made a pissy face at the mask and at Niko too, before she slipped it on and he shook his head indulgently. "Remember, every four hours." Steph rolled her eyes in response, but nodded in agreement.

While she sat on the floor, Indian fashion, with her elbows on her knees and her chin in her hands, he listened to her lungs. "Much better. I want you to stay in bed today, eat well, and sleep as much as you can. I don't want you moving around a lot, you're still going to be very weak and you're going to wear out fast. I don't want to risk a relapse. Uncle Alexander will be more than happy to keep you company. And the girls will take good care of you. Okay?"

She nodded and Niko picked up the phone from the bedside table. While he made his call, she studied the handsome man who sat beside her. He was taller than both Ranger and Morelli, maybe 6'2", with broad shoulders and a narrow waist. He had enough muscle to tell that he worked out, but he obviously wasn't a weight lifter. She could tell that he was tanned from being outside because the waist of his pajama bottoms hung low and his tan line showed. He had an expressive face that showed his emotions, a nice change, she thought. His quick smile flashed white teeth against his tanned skin and his clear blue eyes smiled as much as his mouth did. And those dimples!

Niko put the phone back on the table and stood up, helping her to her feet and into the chair by the bed. "I have to get going. I have morning rounds to make at the Medical Center in Neptune," he told her. "I also have a consult on a kid who was in a car accident, so I may have an emergency surgery as well. I'll call and check on you later and Uncle Alexander can always get in touch with me if you need me.

She nodded and lifted the mask. "Niko, thank you for taking such good care of me, I know you put your life on hold for me and I appreciate everything you've done. I honestly don't know what I would have done without you."

He reached out and touched her shoulder with the tips of his fingers. "You have lots of friends who love you and care about you. There was a steady stream of them coming through Bobby's house while you were out of it. You've touched the lives of a diverse group of people, that's for sure." He turned to leave. "Someday you're going to have to tell me about Dougie and Mooner … and the Super Suit?" She waved goodbye at him and sat back in the chair to finish the breathing treatment.

Niko had shown Steph where the call button was for the maids, and she gave it a firm push. She hoped that he had remembered to explain why he was in her bed this morning and that it had cleared up any misunderstandings. Trying to explain things to Sophia and Eleni using charades was a challenge Steph wasn't looking forward to. Acting out 'tea or coffee' was one thing; acting out 'I wasn't having sex with Niko' was something else entirely!

Sophia and Eleni slipped into the room. While Eleni changed the sheets and cleaned, Sophia helped Steph into the beautiful bathroom, turned on the water and placed the beautiful, fluffy bath towels on the heating racks right outside the glass and marble shower. Steph washed her face and brushed her teeth, then undressed and stepped into the shower, letting the warm water wash over her. The shower gel was a lovely rose scent, very feminine and completely different from the Bulgari that she had used for the past year, much to Steph's relief.

Steph stayed under the spray until she looked like a prune, then wrapped her hair and body in the wonderfully warm towels. She felt like a princess, and found it hard to believe that people actually lived like this on a daily basis. She thought that Ranger's penthouse had been luxurious with Ella to take care of them, and had felt that it was like living in a hotel that had those kinds of amenities. But this, this was the stuff that dreams were made of.

Sophia came in and dried Steph's hair, gently working her magic on it, taming it into a loose French braid. Steph's temple was still sore to the touch and there was only that one other spot on the back of her head, right above her hairline that still bothered her. She couldn't figure out what had happened to make it so tender and she explored the spot, touching it gingerly. Maybe she had hit it when she had passed out on her way to the bathroom at Bobby's house?

While Steph slathered herself with rose scented body lotion, Eleni came in with another fabulous pajama set. Though made of heavy satin, this set looked like a man's navy and cream pin stripped suit. Navy piping edged the cream colored collar and cuffs of both the pajamas and matching robe, and edged the navy mules. The set was so beautiful that it could have been worn anywhere, not just to bed.

By the time Steph walked out of the bathroom, Alexander was entering the bedroom followed by Costas, carrying a huge tray. The French doors to the small balcony stood open and a table had been set up outside, complete with linens and silver, under the striped awning. Costas deposited the heavy tray on a service cart on the balcony, and took up his bodyguard position in the corner of the balcony. Alexander took her hand and kissed it, tucking it into the crook of his arm and leading her outside onto the balcony.

"We will not tell Niko, Selene. It will be our secret. The air is warm and will do you no harm; in fact, the ocean air is good for you." He winked at her as he seated her at the table.

Alexander served their breakfast. The tray was filled with dome-covered dishes, each one holding something delicious and he served Stephanie a little of each. Stephanie had to admit that for the first time in her life, she really didn't have much of an appetite. Looking at all of the overflowing plates, she just sighed and picked up her fork.

"Niko ordered that you have a good breakfast, so I made it all myself," Alexander said proudly, waving his hand over the dishes, leaving Steph no choice but to eat. She made sure that she complimented him on each dish, and made appreciative noises as she ate. Alexander kept up a steady chatter, entertaining her with stories of his childhood in Greece.

When she was full to bursting, she pushed her plate away and picked up her coffee cup, settling back in her chair. She looked out over the ocean and breathed in the delicious salt air. She thought about the last time she had sat out on a balcony overlooking the water. Ranger had been across the table from her and they had been so deliriously happy. She jerked back to the present, sloshing her coffee, when Alexander reached over and touched her arm.

"I'm sorry, Alexander. I guess I sort of got lost in my thoughts," she said with a deep sigh, mopping up the coffee with her napkin. "I'm a terrible guest. Everyone has been so nice to me and I've been so caught up in my own misery that I can't even …" Big tears welled up in her eyes and she looked down at the napkin she was twisting in her fingers.

Alexander pulled his chair around so that he was sitting next to her. He took her hand in both of his and leaned toward her. "I never had a daughter. My wives only gave me sons, and that was probably a good thing. If any man had made my daughter as unhappy as you are now, I would have left his corpse for the vultures." He studied her as she looked up at him with tear-filled eyes. "Your Pantheras, he makes you have this heavy heart?" She nodded in response. "Tell me."

It took her several minutes to collect her thoughts and to control her emotions. She sighed again, and took a couple of careful breaths as she tried to control her emotions and could speak without dissolving into tears. She realized that she couldn't look at Alexander; she didn't want to see the pity in his face, so she turned sideways in her chair and looked out at the waves washing up on the sand and slipping back into the ocean. The rhythm was hypnotic and soothing; all she had to do was concentrate on the waves.

Stephanie took a breath and started. She told Alexander the whole story, from the day she walked into that café downtown, to the day she walked out of RangeMan. Alexander sat quietly, while it all spilled out of her. She told him things that she had never even told Mary Lou, things that she had never even admitted to herself. There was something about Alexander Ramos that made her trust him with her secrets, although she couldn't have told you what it was. When she finished they sat in silence for a long while. Finally, Alexander raised her hand to his lips and then patted it. "If you wish me to, I will kill him for you myself." Steph gave him a sad smile, and just shook her head 'No'. The tears that she had held for so long, finally slipped down her cheeks.

"Kyrios, parakalo. Ela mazi mou, tora." It was the first time she had heard Costas speak and while his voice was low and calm, there was something about its tone that made her pay attention. He had stepped between Alexander and the edge of the balcony, his hand in his jacket wrapped around the gun in his shoulder holster. Alexander stood, pulled Steph out of her chair and pushed her into the house ahead of him. Costas followed them and quickly closed the French doors.

"Don't worry Selene. I pay them very well to be nervous for me. They seem to think that dogs taking a dump on the beach are hit men in disguise and are out to assassinate me." She must have looked startled or frightened because Alexander reached out and patted her cheek. "You must not fret, Selene, I will not let any harm come to you. You are a guest in my home, and you are safe here."

He motioned for Sophia and Eleni to help her into bed, speaking to them in rapid fire Greek. They smiled and fluttered around her, giving her the pills that she was scheduled to take and a glass of water to wash them down with. Alexander sat in the chair at the side of the bed and smiled at her. "I cannot heal your broken heart, only time can do that. But is there anything I can do to help you?"

She gave a small laugh. "Alexander! I don't have anything … no job, no clothes, no home, no car, no phone, no nothing. But thanks to you, I'm living in the lap of luxury, with clothes I only see in magazines, people to take care of me, my own personal doctor … I don't know how I'll ever be able to repay you for what you've already done for me."

"Ha! Those things I can help you with!" He clapped his hands together. "We will go shopping for a car, I see you in something sleek and fast … and maybe, sometimes, you will come and take an old man for a drive." He leaned in and whispered conspiratorially, "And maybe you will let me drive it sometimes, yes?" Costas, standing behind Ramos, caught Stephanie's eye and solemnly shook his head.

"I can't let you buy me a car …" She suddenly remembered her new-found wealth. "There is something you might be able to do for me and she looked around for her purse. Alex asked Eleni who brought it from the closet. Steph pulled out the papers from the ATF and showed them to Alexander. "Can you find out if this is legit? I mean, it's awfully coincidental that I should receive this at the exact moment that I need it most … ya know?"

Alexander looked over the paperwork and nodded. "I have my accounts in the main branch of your bank. I think that I have some leverage and should be able to get the information for you. Since it was an electronic transfer, the account that it was sent from is easily traced." He stood and put the papers in his inside jacket pocket. "Niko says that you must rest today. You will play by his rules and when you are well, we will go out and have some fun, you and I. Yes?"

Steph had to admit that she was exhausted. The emotional strain of her talk with Alexander had taken its toll on her and she was having a hard time keeping her eyes open. She leaned back against the pillows with a sigh and Alexander straightened the blanket covering her, bending to lightly kiss her forehead. She was asleep before he left the room.

She woke up a couple of hours later to find a small box and an envelope next to her on the bed. She checked the envelope first. Pulling out several folded pages, she found the information that she had given Alexander to check on. The third page, a computer print out, confirmed that the money had indeed come from the Federal Government. A fourth page outlined the Federal Reward Policy and Payment Procedure. The fifth was a printout of her checking and savings accounts.

She had to look over her account information several times, in fact, before it sank in. She had banked most of her salary for the past year, paying her own bills, like Macy's, and her share of the furnishings, but Ranger had paid most of their living expenses, saying that it cost him that much to live there anyway. As a result, she had a nice chunk of change to begin with, at least for her. With the reward, Stephanie Plum had a savings account balance of $1462.78, and a checking account balance of $267,311.54. She felt giddy just looking at those numbers.

She had left RangeMan with her pride, but pride was cold comfort. Pride wouldn't feed you or put a roof over your head. Relief washed over her as she realized that she wouldn't have to depend on hand outs and the generosity of her friends to live. She would be able to stand on her own two feet and she could afford to have a new life. She sat, lost in thought, for quite a while, trying to decide what to do first.

All that thinking only resulted in Steph giving herself a headache. She folded the papers and put them back into the envelope and reached for the box. Inside was the cutest little flip phone she had ever seen. It was bright red and had every bell and whistle known to modern technology. An attached note said, **_'Call your friends! AR'_**. She started with Lula and Connie, then Mary Lou and Christie, telling each one about the reward money and listening to them squeal in excitement for her.

Her friend Christie had recently moved to the Trenton area, working out of the Philly offices of the ATF. She had just been through the joys of apartment hunting, and Steph hoped that Christie could steer her in the right direction. They had a long talk about what Steph was looking for, and Christie offered to do some legwork so that when Steph was well, they could go apartment hunting with all the girls. She rattled on about looking for furniture and linens and curtains and all the things that Steph would need, trying to get her excited about the prospect of all the shopping. She had good friends and she was grateful.

Steph even checked in with Bobby and Hal, asking how they were and checking on Rex. They all carefully avoided talking about Ranger or RangeMan, but the guys promised that they would come and visit her at Ramos' house. Finally, she only had one more phone call to make and after sitting and looking at the phone for a good fifteen minutes to work up her courage, she called her mother. Steph decided that God was on her side today because there was no answer at her parent's house. She was able to leave a message saying that she would be out of town for a while and would call when she got back and she breathed a sigh of relief as she snapped the phone closed.

She wasn't looking forward to explaining all of this to her family. She already knew what her mother would tell her … if she had only married Morelli none of this would have happened. To this day, her mother didn't understand why she didn't jump at marrying him. She seemed to honestly believe that once that wedding ring was on Steph's finger, she would morph into the perfect Burg housewife. Her mother conveniently overlooked the fact that she had tried it once before with disastrous results. Steph was pretty sure that this little piece of news would send her mother so far into the pantry with her bottle of Johnny Walker Black that her Dad would have to send her to rehab.

The maids brought her lunch and she slept some more, took her pills, did her breathing treatments. Niko had been right, she tired out easily, just getting up to go to the bathroom exhausted her and she would need a nap afterward. Niko and Alexander both joined her for dinner in front of the fire, and then they played dominos for a couple of hours. Bedtime came early, but her sleep was filled with nightmares and she spent much of the night in a chair in front of the French doors, watching the moonlight reflected on the black ocean. She ended up spending most of her nights in Deal in that chair.

Her days slipped into an easy recuperation pattern of food, naps, and company. Almost a full week of nasty weather held her captive in the pink palace and as she got better and stronger, Steph was beginning to show signs of a new malady … cabin fever. When she asked Alex to teach her how to cook one of his famous Greek dishes, he was so worried that he felt her forehead to make sure she wasn't running a fever and having a relapse.

In an effort to distract her, Lula and Connie and Mary Lou came to visit, invited personally by Alexander who sent his driver and limo to pick them up. They arrived just a little happy from the champagne that Alexander had provided for their ride, and everyone thought it hysterically funny that Mary Lou sulked because she was the only one who didn't have a gun to check at the door. They were all were awed by the house, the host, and The Magic Closet, even Lula, who was disappointed by the lack of spandex and glow in the dark colors, but more than impressed when she met Niko.

Sophia and Eleni were in the middle of the mix, giving massages and doing everyone's hair and makeup. Eleni did everyone's nails and even Connie, the Manicure Maven, was impressed. They all gabbed, in English and Greek, and there was no communication problem at all, all laughing at the same jokes and shaking their heads over the same 'man problems.' Everybody understood 'girl talk.'

The girls were all in the kitchen, watching the Godfather of Gun-running, the man who had a world-wide reputation for shooting first and asking questions later, putter around wearing an apron that said 'Kiss The Cook', telling silly jokes and cooking for them like somebody's grandpa. Niko came in from the hospital, grinning at the happy and slightly drunken group, especially when Mary Lou made a very loud comment about how pretty he was.

Lula followed Niko around the kitchen, looking at him like she was trying to figure out where she knew him from. "Jeez, Girlfriend! Don't you know no ugly men? I know I seen him before … someplace. Gimme a minute and I'll put my finger on it." Lula stalked Niko, trying to look at him from different angles. "I got it … I got it!" Lula yelped! "He looks like that guy on television … you know, the cute one. He was in that show that we used to like. The Buffy guy!"

"Oh My God! Lula's right!" Mary Lou squealed, smacking Connie on the arm. "Steph! You have your very own Angel!"

Steph tilted her head and closed one eye and squinted. The one glass of champagne that Niko had allowed her had gone right to her head, she thought. Of course, thanks to the girls, that one glass had become bottomless. She could feel all those happy little bubbles dancing around in her brain.

"Hey! They're right! You _DO _look like Angel! Ohhhh! You're my Guardian Angel! My Guardian Angel doctor! Nooo, Doctor Guardian Angel?" She dissolved into giggles.

She gave Niko a loopy grin, and he came across the kitchen to check on her. He looked into her face and chuckled, shaking his head. "I thought I told you ONE glass of champagne." He tried to take the glass from Steph's hand, but she grabbed her hand back, spilling some of the champagne onto her hand and down her arm.

"No, no, no, no, no! 'Smine! You gotta get your own," she said with a slight slur and another giggle. She raised her hand to her mouth and licked the bubbles away, still holding the glass and spilling more champagne as she turned her hand.

Niko's chuckle turned into a full fledged laugh. "At this rate, Steph, I don't think I have to worry." He snagged some paper towels from the counter and wiped the champagne from her arm and hand, then mopped up the mess on the floor.

Mary Lou, Connie, and Lula watched, open mouthed, as Niko blotted the champagne from Steph. Connie let out a groan as he bent to wipe up the spilled champagne from the floor. The three girls exchanged slightly drunken, knowing looks.

"Ohhhhhh!" Mary Lou stage whispered. "He cleans … he's a keeper." Connie and Lula looked at Mary Lou like she was nuts, then looked at each other and shook their heads.

Lula leaned into Connie. "I was thinking more in terms of those sweet buns!" The looked at each other and nodded knowingly.

"Yeah," Connie agreed, "The only things missing on those buns are the bite marks! Mine!" They all snorted and giggled when Niko turned to look at them.

At this point Alexander called them to the table for dinner and more wine on top of the champagne. He was an amazing host, a real ladies' man, telling funny and slightly off-color stories that were made funnier by the liberal amounts of Retsina that he poured. The girls laughed until they cried and the dinner ended with shots of ouzo. Connie and Lula tried to convince Niko to take off his shirt and lay on the table so that they could do belly shots, but he politely declined the offer. Alexander, on the other hand, was more than willing to volunteer and faked being insulted when they hooted and turned him down. The evening ended with everyone hugging and kissing like old friends, promising to get together again soon, and the girls were poured back into the limo for their trip home.

Stephanie, Niko and Alexander stood out in the driveway waving and calling 'Goodbye' as Connie and Mary Lou hung out the limo windows blowing kisses, and Lula popped up through the sunroof, champagne bottle in hand.

Alexander turned to Stephanie and put his hands on her shoulders. "It has been a long time since there has been so much laughter in this house. I had almost forgotten how. Thank you, Selene, for sharing your friends." He kissed her on both cheeks. "Well, this old man is tired and his bed is calling. You two should enjoy the full moon, go … walk!" He clapped Niko on the shoulder and turned to go inside.

Niko was just about to ask if she wanted to walk down to the beach when Costas came out of the house carrying two jackets. He handed one to Niko and helped Steph into the other. She wrapped the oversized jacket around herself and stuffed her hands into the pockets.

Steph smiled up at Niko. "It feels good to be outside after being locked up for so long. I love the smell of the ocean." She looked longingly toward the water.

"Your wish is my command," he said lightly and took her arm as they strolled down the path that led from the house and its beautifully manicured grounds, down to the beach.

Once they hit the sand, they both took off their shoes, leaving them on the path, and strolled, arm in arm, down to the water. The food had helped Steph to sober up and Niko hadn't let her to have any wine or ouzo. Still, the evening had left her with a warm glow and an almost contented feeling that she thought she would never feel again. They stopped short of the lapping waves, the water and wet sand too cold at this time of year. Steph just stood and inhaled the salty air, looking out over the river of moonlight that the full moon cast onto the water. She felt calm and peaceful standing there, the turmoil of her life a million miles away.

Niko took her arm again and they started down the beach, burying their feet in the sand. Niko pointed out his uncles' houses in the compound, the place where he had taken his little boat out and been caught in the rip tides when he was seven years old, the beach where the jellyfish had wrapped around him and stung him at eight years old, the brick wall he fell off of at nine years old and broke his leg, ruining his whole summer, the jetty where he fell into the water at ten and where the waves almost smashed him against the rocks. Each time his Uncle Alex had saved him.

The stories continued … Alexander knocking on the steamed up windows of seventeen year old Niko's car while he was in the back seat with a girl who turned out to be the underage daughter of the Chief of Police from the next town. How he and his buddies got drunk the night of their high school graduation and got his best friend's brand new car stuck on the beach, at the water's edge, at 3 am, just as the tide was coming in. Alexander had it rescued with minutes to spare before the waves crashed over it. Alexander showing up in person to bail him out of a Mexican jail after a Spring Break spree. Steph decided that Niko was as wonderful a story-teller as Alex; it must be a family trait.

Niko told Steph that his father, Aristotle, had been killed when he was a small child and that in family tradition, his Uncle had stepped in to care for is family. Alexander was the only father that Niko had ever known. Alex had bailed him out of trouble, paid for his education, and made absolutely sure that he had no involvement in the 'Ramos Family Business.' Steph had no question about his love and loyalty to his uncle; she could hear the affection in his voice.

They had turned to go back to the house when Steph stumbled over a piece of driftwood that was partially buried in the sand. Niko caught her and held her hand the rest of the way back to the house. They picked up their shoes and at the back door washed their feet off under the outside shower provided for that purpose. Niko knelt to dry her feet, then scooped her up and carried her into the kitchen so she wouldn't get her feet dirty.

He deposited Steph on a barstool at the counter while he poured them each a cup of coffee. Alexander had left a plate of Greek desserts for them and Niko pointed out almond cookies, and little sweet cakes, but the pastries with sweet cream filling called her name.

Stephanie took a bite of one and Niko chuckled as the delicious cream oozed out of it onto her lips. Laughing, she tipped her head back to keep the cream from falling onto her lap and tried to lick it into her mouth with little success. Niko picked up a napkin and stood next to her, his hand on the back of her head. He had intended to wipe the cream off her lips, but their laughter faded and they froze momentarily as their eyes met.

Slowly, so as not to break the spell, he lowered his head and touched the cream on the corner of her mouth with the tip of his tongue. A small gasp escaped her and she shivered at the contact. She held her breath as his mouth came down and he brushed his lips over hers. Her eyes fluttered shut as he kissed her, slowly and sensually and her lips parted of their own volition. He moved his hand to wrap his arm around her and pulled her up off the stool, his other hand splayed on the side of her neck. She molded herself to him and she curled her fingers into his shirt as the kiss deepened, his tongue stroking hers.

Slowly the kiss broke and they came back to themselves. Realizing what had happened, Stephanie's face flamed and she stepped back so quickly that she bumped into the stool, knocking it over. Embarrassment flooded over her and she couldn't meet his eyes, so she looked at the floor instead. She could still feel his mouth on hers and she raised her fingers to her lips, not believing what she had just done.

"I won't apologize Stephanie," he said softly, running his hands down her arms. "I've wanted to do that for a long time. Just remember, if and when you're ready to move on, I'll be waiting." He bent and kissed her on the forehead. "Kalinikta, Stephanie Plum," and he left her standing in the kitchen.

Stephanie and Ranger had been friends and lovers and partners.

They had been apart three weeks, one day, fifteen hours, and forty-four minutes.

**TBC …**

**Thank you for all the wonderful reviews. They were Steph's favorite reading as she was recuperating. Please keep them coming, Alexander and Niko want to know how you feel about them. I wouldn't piss off Alexander, after all, he is Guns R Us! And Niko is just so SIGH If you want to see what I think he looks like, check out the link on my Profile Page on FF.**

Kalimera, paidia. Good morning, Children.

Kyrios, parakalo. Ela mazi mou, tora. Sir, please come with me, now.

Kalinikta. Good night.

Selene. Moon

Pantheras. Panther


	9. Pick Up Sticks!

**_Disclaimer: All the characters that you recognize belong to Janet Evanovich, the others are mine all mine._**

_**Warnings: Angst and Language**_

_**A/N: Thank you Karen. God knows where I'd be without you! Thanks to all my wonderful readers and reviewers. Thank you for your kind words and support.**_

_**The Name of the Game**_

**_Chapter 8:Pick Up Sticks_**

9-8-7

Steph threw herself onto her new couch with a contented sigh and took a long pull from her Corona. It had been a hysterical six weeks of apartment hunting and shopping and decisions. While she had to admit that she had never really been interested in this kind of stuff before, she also had to admit that it had given her some much needed distraction, something to focus on instead of herself. Finding a new home had been a positive step in the right direction for her, the first of many that she'd have to take. Looking around at her new place she decided that she was proud of herself and the decisions she had made.

While Steph was still at Alexander's house in Deal, Christie had volunteered to do some apartment and condo hunting for her. Once Christie had lined up a list of suitable places for Steph to look at, she would go back to Trenton and move in with Christie. Well, Christie had called, excited about what she had found, and Steph prepared to leave Alexander's house in Deal to go back to her life in Trenton. To say that she was a little scared at the prospect was to say the least. Just the thought of even seeing Ranger made her sick to her stomach.

Steph had spent her last days in Deal walking on the beach and trying to figure out what she was going to do with her life. She had cried more tears than she thought possible, but knew that she had to stop wallowing in self-pity and start living again. She had grieved and healed, maybe not completely, but enough to move on. She knew that she would never be the same, but it was time to put one foot in front of the other and get on with her life, just as she had always done before. It looked like the time had come for her to leave her cocoon and spread her wings again.

Alexander had kissed her on both cheeks and packed her into his limo with half the contents of the 'Magic Closet'. After hugging a weeping Sophia and Eleni goodbye, Costas had driven Steph from Fantasyland, back to real life.

Apartment hunting had come first. Steph had driven her intrepid band of friends, Christie, Connie, Lula and Mary Lou, from one apartment building to the next in her brand new, three year old Expedition that Niko had helped her find. All together they must have toured a dozen apartments, all nice, bright, and airy two bedroom-two bath versions of the same thing. There wasn't a lot of imagination in the Trenton housing market, it seemed.

But Christie had saved the best for last. When Steph turned the corner and pulled up to the last place on the list, they all decided that this was 'it', even before they went inside. Four cobbled streets of old Victorian brownstone row houses had been refurbished by some visionary who had decided that Trenton house hunters might be drawn to something charming. Here, in the middle of the grey and crumbling city, was a tiny section, so perfect that it looked like a movie set.

The streets formed a square with all the brownstones facing a small, forgotten, pocket park. The developer had cleaned out what he thought was a garbage dump, and had uncovered a charming old neighborhood park. Surrounded by a brick and wrought iron fence, it had a small pond and winding paths. With a little care, he returned it to what it had been more that a hundred years before, and you could practically see Victorian ladies and gentlemen strolling around the antique fountain or sitting on the benches.

Small trees with wrought-iron surrounds shaded the sidewalks in front of the buildings, and old fashioned streetlights that looked like gas lamps, lined the street. The wide front steps, with ornate wrought-iron railings, held pots of bright red geraniums and ivy, announcing spring. Front doors were painted dark red or green or black with gold house numbers and ornate wrought iron covering the bottom half of the tall windows.

One of the front doors opened and the agent came out, introduced herself and handed out her business cards to the girls. As she walked the group through the little park, she chatted on about the history of the houses and the area, the rebuilding that had been done and all the updates and upgrades. Leading them up the steps of one of the houses, she opened the door on a furnished model, and Steph fell in love.

While she was still staying at Christie's, Steph had gone to dinner at her parents' house. For once, the rumor mill had been quiet and word of the break up hadn't filtered down to the 'Burg. After all, this did concern Ranger, and nobody talked about the Man In Black. It was time for Steph to break the news to her folks.

Steph had taken Christie along with her, knowing that her mother wouldn't pitch a fit in front of a guest. Calmly and quietly Steph had told her family that she and Ranger were no longer together. Her grandmother came around the table and put her arms around Steph, holding her tight and rocking her gently. Her father had reached over and had taken her hand. Her mother's pupils had dilated, but she didn't say anything, simply excusing herself and going into the kitchen. They all looked at their plates as they heard her Mother knocking things off the shelves in the pantry, looking for her bottle of Johnny Walker Black and they heard the kitchen cupboard open and slam shut as her mother got herself a glass. "Well, at least she isn't drinking straight out of the bottle," Grandma Mazur quipped, as she filled everybody's wine glass again.

That night, Steph had had a long talk with her Dad, asking his advice about what to do with the reward money she had collected. Her mother had hovered in the background, listening to the conversation, but for once, had nothing to say. One of her father's suggestions had been to use some of the money to buy herself a home. That way, he said, she would never again have to depend on anyone for the roof over her head. That roof would belong to her. So with that in mind, Steph signed on the dotted line and bought herself a two bedroom-two bath condo in a one hundred year old brownstone building.

The girlfriends rallied to get Steph all the things that she needed for her new place, and while she was a little iffy on some of the stuff, it was still retail therapy, and that was always good for you, right? What followed was a shopping frenzy of epic proportions. The girls had hit the mall like a small, elite invasion force, shopping lists in hand. There had been no need to reconnoiter, they all knew these stores like back of their hands. Six hours later, they had rendezvoused in the Food Court, exhausted but proud, their mission accomplished. Steph, who had started with nothing, now had everything that anybody could want to make a house a home.

Her mother and Val had been surprisingly helpful, in their own way, but it took them less than 12 hours before they drove her completely nuts. When she overheard them discussing the merits of thermal lining as opposed to black out, she could feel her eyes glaze over and her brain start to shrivel. But when they tried to trap her at her parents' house by sitting on either side of her on the couch, armed to the teeth with swatch books and coordinating fabric samples, paint chips and furniture catalogues, she jumped over the coffee table, grabbed her purse and hit the door at a full run and headed for Pino's."

She had pulled into the parking lot and the smell of garlic and marinara sauce hit her even before she got out of her SUV. She could feel her blood pressure lower and a sense of calm washed over her that only meatball subs and pizza could induce. It was lunchtime, and the place was busy. On her way through the restaurant, she had stopped and chatted with Big Dog and Carl, Eddie had hugged and kissed her, and Pino himself had come out of the kitchen to welcome one of his best customers, telling her she was too thin and he was going to fatten her up. By the time she slipped into a booth with her back to the wall, a sense of normalcy had come over her and she was a happy camper, well, as happy as she could be under the circumstances.

The waitress took her order and brought her a Coke. She sat, lost in her thoughts, idly drawing in the condensation on the side of her glass, when a familiar voice said, "Hi Cupcake. Mind if I join you?" She looked up into Joe Morelli's smiling eyes.

"Hey Joe," she smiled and returned the hug he bent to give her. "Sit down. You know I hate to eat alone. When did you get back?" Joe had been 'out of town on Police business' for the last couple of weeks.

He sat across from her and studied her face. "Got back yesterday. Good to see you up and around. You feeling okay?"

"Yeah," she said. "Yeah, I am. Niko says I can go back to work on Monday. Just low level skips at first, until I'm sure I can handle 'em, but it'll be good to get back to … Oh, don't give me that look Morelli! I know what you're thinking and you can cut it out right now!" She pointed a finger at him.

Joe held his hands up in an 'I surrender' move and gave her a sheepish look. "Sorry Steph, force of habit. I guess I didn't think you'd go back to skip tracing, now that you're rich and all."

She barked a laugh. "What? You thought I was gonna sit around all day and count my money like $crooge McDuck? Idon'tthinkso!" She rolled her eyes at him.

They sat back as the waitress brought their orders and they dug in to their pizzas, folding the slices so that they could expertly wrap the stringy mozzarella around and around the slice. Steph moaned with pleasure at the first bite and Joe just shook his head at her. _Some things never change, _he thought to himself.

They chatted about his job, her new condo, life in the 'Burg, until they had exhausted all the small talk. He was leaning on the table, looking down into his coffee cup. "What happened, Steph? What went wrong? I thought you were happy with him." he asked softly.

Steph leaned back in the booth and looked out the window, chewing her lip. "I have no clue Joe. One morning he told me that he was tired of domestic bliss, that it was time for us to move on, and I had to get out." She was proud of herself. She was able to say that without shedding a tear. What she didn't tell Joe about was all the hours she had spent trying to figure out what had gone wrong, playing those last weeks over and over in her mind. She had traced the change back to the night of Tank's birthday party, back to the phone call, back to that one word, 'Lazarus!' She could still hear that glass smash on the bathroom floor. She should have known.

Joe reached across the table and covered her hand with his, giving her icy fingers a squeeze. "You know that I'm always here for you, Steph, anything you need, anytime, anyplace. Okay?" He tugged her gently toward the table and pulled her hand up to his lips then reached over and enveloped both of her hands in his. She nodded in reply, touched by his quiet concern for her. Their once weird on again-off again relationship had ended up with them being best friends.

They left Pino's with their arms around each other's waists, with Joe promising to come over in a couple of days with meatball subs and beer for a tour of her new digs and a ball game. He walked her to her car and gave her a hug and a chaste kiss on the lips and helped her in. Giving her a wave, he stood and watched as Steph drove away, thinking that his original opinion of Ranger was dead on … the man was a psycho. How could Manoso have let her go once he had her? He just shook his head as he walked back to his own car and drove back to the station.

6-5-4

Monday morning finally arrived and Steph was out of bed before her alarm went off. For the first time in a forever she was actually excited about going to work. Padding into the kitchen, she dropped a grape and a carrot into Rex's Habitrail and waited while he backed his furry little butt out of his soup can to investigate his treasures. "Hey Big Guy, so what do ya think of our new home, huh? Did I do okay?" He rewarded her with a twitch of his whiskers before he stuffed the grape into his mouth and buried the carrot. "I'll take that as a 'Yes'!" Steph called over her shoulder to him as she made her coffee.

She took her mug into the bathroom and got that little thrill of pleasure that shot through her every time she looked at it. After years of the brown and orange of her old apartment, the sleek marble and modern fixtures made her want to do the Snoopy dance. Finishing her morning routine, she tackled her hair, and per Bobby's orders, worked it into a loose French braid with the tail tucked under so that reluctant skips wouldn't be able to grab her usual pony tail. Light makeup and two coats of mascara later Steph walked into her closet and put on dark blue cargos and a white long sleeved T-shirt.

When Bobby and the rest of the Merry Men had found out that she was going back to bounty hunting they had insisted on helping her brush up on her skills and had worked with her on everything from basic moves to how to do her hair. Bobby had worked with her on strength training and take down techniques in the home gym he had in his basement. Lester had taken her to the gun range at Sunny's and had made sure Steph and her new Glock were well matched. Tank helped her out on the heavy punching bag, helping her build arm strength and endurance. Cal and Ram had taken turns running with her, each day encouraging her to go a little farther until she was running five miles around the city every morning. Hal had gone swimming at the Y with her, helping her build lung strength. All the guys were cheerful and chatty, but by unspoken agreement, no one ever mentioned Ranger.

Steph velcroed her small holster to her right ankle and slipped her Beretta Cheetah into it, then laced up her steel toed boots. Her utility belt came next, already loaded with cuffs, pepper spray, stun gun and an extra clip for her gun. She punched in the combination to her gun safe and took out her weapon, shoved in the clip and slipped it into the holster on her hip. Grabbing her windbreaker, she turned and caught sight of herself in the full-length mirror on the back of the closet door. She didn't look like she was playing at bounty hunting anymore, this time she looked like she meant business.

Steph grabbed her bag and swung out the door, so excited that she was almost dancing down the stairs. She had just pushed the remote locks on her SUV when she was hit with the feeling that she was being watched. It was the same feeling that she often had as she walked the beach in Deal, and had attributed it to being under the watchful eyes of Alexander's bodyguards. But her spidey sense had jangled any number of times since she had come back to Trenton as well. Each time she looked around trying to spot the watcher, but there was no one there.

She heaved a sigh and tossed her bag and jacket into the passenger seat and took off for the Tasty Pastry. Might as well start her first day back at work in style with something special. She left the bakery with a box of éclairs, napoleons, and cannoli and four coffees. She walked into the office to find bunches of balloons that said 'Welcome Back' and Lula, Connie, and Melvin Pickle with noise makers and party hats.

"You guys are nuts!" She laughed as she deposited the pastry box and coffee on Connie's desk.

"We missed your skinny white ass around here," Lula yelled and hugged Steph so hard she almost lifted her off the floor.

"It sure has been dull with only Joyce for entertainment," Connie piped up, nodding her head toward Vinnie's door.

Connie, Lula, Melvin and Steph all looked at each other and made the same disgusted face. "Ewwwwww!"

Everybody descended on the pastry box and then grabbed a coffee. Melvin appreciatively licked the cream from an éclair off his fingers. "Do we get this all the time now that you're rich and famous, or is this a special occasion?" He asked, reaching for a cannoli.

Coffee and cannoli in hand, Steph picked up her stack of files and sat on the couch next to Lula who was filing her nails. In deference to Niko, who wanted her to start out easy to make sure she didn't over-tax herself, all of her skips were low level, and she flipped through them as she sipped her coffee. The first file was for Grandma Mazur's friend, ViVi Della Pietro, who Steph had met during her night in jail. If she waited until 10:30, she could just pick her up at the Clip N Curl. The Butch Cassidy and Sundance Kid of Trenton had standing 9 o'clock appointments every Tuesday morning. If they waited until tomorrow, all they had to do was walk in and get her. ViVi would probably want Steph to drag her off in cuffs, but the woman would go without a fight since she had a real thing about being arrested.

File number two was for Howard Byron, 46 years old, non-violent, and a bigamist. The file said that he had five wives and thirteen children, but none of the wives wanted to press charges. He lived just outside the 'Burg with wife number three and their four children. Steph had to laugh when she read that he was a traveling salesman … classic, she thought. His stats said that he was 5'3" tall and weighed 211 lbs and his photo showed that he was balding and bespectacled. Steph couldn't wait to find out what his allure was.

Skip Number three was Teresa Ann DeHeks, a 43 year old, who had gotten picked up for drunk and disorderly, again, in a neighborhood bar where they held mud wrestling matches. She and some fellow drunks had gotten into an argument and wound up slinging mud all over the place. She had sat in the city lockup for days before Vinnie bonded her out. Apparently, she couldn't find a single soul who was willing to post her bail.

Steph signed all the paperwork and had just flipped the last file closed when the door flew open and Joyce Barnhardt oozed into the office. She was dressed like the dominatrix from hell, in a cat suit that looked sprayed on, it was so tight. The only things missing were the ears and whiskers; she was notorious for her tail. She stopped right in front of Steph and posed, hands on hips.

"Well, well! Look who came crawling back. It really sucks to be you, doesn't it? I mean, knowing that you don't have what it takes to keep a man interested? First Dickie had to come to me for satisfaction, then Morelli had to have Terri on the side, and now Ranger kicked you to the curb. Maybe you need implants or lessons or something cause, Honey, what you got, obviously ain't enough." She put her hands under her huge boobs and pushed them up with a smirk. Steph was hoping she'd knock herself cold with them, but no such luck.

Connie growled at Joyce. "Well Miss Barn-yard, Vinnie isn't here so we aren't in need of any farm animals. What do you want anyway?"

Joyce glared at Connie. "It's bad enough you have a mustache, you growing a beard now too? You should run away and join the circus." Joyce gave Connie a pissy face. "I heard that Pollyanna was back and I just wanted to come in and make my position here clear." She tossed her hair over her shoulder.

Lula rolled her eyes, "Yeah Joycie, we all know that your position here is down on all fours with the rat shit and roaches, so don't worry, it's secure. And as for implants, I think the ones from your boobs slid down to your ass … you seen yourself from the back lately?" Lula pointed at Joyce's butt with her nail file and gave her a sharp poke with the pointed end.

Joyce squeaked and rubbed her butt. She narrowed her eyes at Lula in spite. "Then what's your excuse, Fat Ass? You got elephant sized implants all over your body. What are you? The experimental model?" Lula howled and was on her feet in a heartbeat, her hands curled into claws to go after Joyce when Steph grabbed her by the back of her waistband and yanked her back onto the couch.

"Here are your files Joyce, and Steph, here's a special one just for you." Connie said a little louder than necessary and held out the files to Joyce and accidentally dropped Steph's on the floor. Joyce yelled, "A special one, probably giving Little Miss Heartbreak a high dollar skip since she doesn't have Manoso to support her sorry ass anymore! I'll take that thankyouverymuch!" and she swooped down to grab it. The little hole that Lula had put into the cat suit with her nail file split the leather and Joyce's entire ass hung out, expanding as the leather gave way. She screamed, "You fucking bitches, I'll fix you!" while she tried to cover her bare ass with her files. She slammed out of the office and teetered away in her 4" heels.

"Speaking of sorry asses, Joyce …" Steph called after her. The group watched as people on the street laughed at Joyce as she made for her car.

"By the way, that special file … it's Norvel, the world class pisser," Connie said, then raised her eyebrows at the howling group. "What? I said it was special!" And they turned to watch as Joyce dropped her files in the street. She put on quite a show, trying to keep her ass covered while she picked up the papers that were blowing all over the place.

"Okay, group. I'm off to get the bad guys." Steph picked up her bag and shoved her files into it. Lula jumped up. "Not without me, you aint!"

"Okay, but no guns, no ass kicking, no violence, no nothing! Got it?"

"Yeah, yeah … I got it. I forgot what a tight ass you was. Won't let nobody have no fun." Despite her words, Lula grinned at Steph.

They started with Sandor at the nursing home, then they collected Harvey from his weeping wife and kiddies, and finally rounded up an already stewed to the gills Teresa who was wailing that she had no friends. Three trips to the station and three body receipts later, Lula decided it was lunchtime.

They motored over to Cluck in a Bucket and were standing in line when Lula grabbed Steph's arm jerking her head toward a big guy standing at another register. "That there's a child molester that got off on a technicality but he's still wanted for a shitload of other stuff. Vinnie's having a cow 'cause nobody can find him. He's worth big bucks."

Steph watched as the tall heavyset man placed his order and when he turned with his tray of food, Steph realized that she was looking into the beady little pig eyes of Tony Panzarelli, the skip that she had lured out of the Wharf almost a year ago. He glanced at her, but clearly didn't recognize her. They watched as Tony found a seat and started to chow down.

Steph pulled out her cell and called Connie but Melvin answered the phone. "Hey, got Tony Panzarelli in my sights, but I don't have paper on him, I need you to dummy it up for me."

"Oh Steph … I don't know about that. He's a bad man that only RangeMan is supposed to go after. I don't want to lose my job. I really like it here."

"Melvin, think about it. If Vinnie loses this bond, we'll all be looking for work! You'll be a hero and I'll personally ask Vinnie to give you a raise. Come on Melvin, just do the paperwork and put it in my file. I'll bring you cannoli and éclairs everyday for a week? Please?"

"Okay, but I don't have a good feeling about this."

"Thanks Melvin, you won't be sorry!"

Lula turned on Steph. "Girl, are you outta your mind? Don't you know who he is?"

"Yeah Lula, he was the skip I went after at the Wharf the night Christie and I got busted by Karvic."

Lula actually paled. "Oh shit! No, no, no, no, no! You're out ta prove somethin' to Batman and I don't want no part of it. My man Tank told me about this guy, he likes to hurt people bad! If _he_ don't kill me, Tank will!"

"Come on Lula, after all the shit I do for you, all I'm asking is that you watch my back and gimme your stun gun, I left my utility belt out in the car." Lula fished around in her purse and pulled out a leopard print stun gun and Steph rolled her eyes. She checked to make sure it had a full charge and slipped it in her pocket.

Lula whimpered, but finally agreed. The girls ordered their lunch, took the table next to Panzarelli and got his attention by asking him for the catsup bottle.

He looked at Steph for the first time when he handed the bottle to her. "Hey, I know you! Where do I know you from?"

Steph shrugged, "I don't know. I worked here and there around town." She concentrated on her food.

"You work at Charlie's?" She shook her head no. "At the Pit?" Another shake of her head. "I know, you worked down at the Wharf before it burned down."

"Yeah I did. Hey, I do recognize you. You lost a lotta weight. You're lookin' good." She smiled and nodded at him.

"Yeah, being in the joint'll do that for ya. You get busted again the night those RangeMan muthafuckahs got me? I got a score ta settle with that bastard Man-oso."

"Yeah, me too," Steph said dryly. "The son of a bitch took me in, too."

"So you still in the same business?" He winked one of his little pig eyes at her.

"Yeah, only mobile now. You interested in a nooner?" Tony nodded and Steph quickly finished her lunch. "This here's my bouncer," Steph pointed to Lula. "She'll drive us around so we don't have to worry about cops and stuff."

The three strolled out to the Expedition and while Lula got in the front seat, behind the wheel, Tony and Steph got in the back. Lula started the engine and pulled out of the parking lot while Steph sat close to Tony and gave him the sexiest smile she could muster under the circumstances. "Come on, big boy. Let's get you out of those pants." And she reached for his belt buckle.

"I can do it faster!" he laughed as he unbuckled and unzipped his pants. As he arched up off the seat to pull his pants and underwear down over his big fat ass, Steph whipped out the stun gun and zappped him on the neck. He gave a little jerk and made an 'erp' sound, then slumped in the seat. Lula squealed into the first parking lot and hit the brakes. She pulled Step's utility belt out from under the front seat and tossed her two pairs of cuffs to secure Tony's hands. Steph pulled the shackles through the bolt in the floor and locked them around his ankles. Tony started to stir and this time Lula did the honors.

Steph ran around and got behind the wheel while Lula called Connie to get the paperwork to the station. And while Steph sped through the streets, the two looked at one another and started to laugh. "We did it!" Steph said. "We honest to God did it!" They exchanged high fives and 'You Go Girls' but composed themselves as they pulled into the parking lot behind the station.

Steph got a cop to come out and help her march Tony inside to get her body receipt. He was yelling and cursing and trying to fight the cop, but Steph just grabbed him by the arm and hauled him to the desk just as Ranger turned the corner and stopped in front of her. She almost ran into him, but was able to sidestep quickly to avoid that particular humiliation. He stood absolutely still and turned his head to watch as she helped the cop cuff a still screaming Tony to the bench. She took her cuffs and put them in her pocket. Then she slung the shackles over her shoulder, taking a deep breath and schooling her facial expression before turning to look at Ranger. He was wearing those fucking mirrored sunglasses of his, so she couldn't see his eyes and the rest of his face gave away nothing. He gave her a single, almost imperceptible nod, then walked down the hall and out the door.

Steph had to wait for Connie to fax over the paperwork and by the time the body receipt was signed and in her hands, her knees were shaking so hard she could barely walk. She made it to the back door and was beyond relieved that there was no black vehicle in the lot. Lula was sitting huddled in the front seat of the SUV and Steph tossed her the keys. All she said was "Drive!" and Lula peeled out of the lot and back to the Bond office.

Halfway there, Steph had Lula pull over and she jumped out and puked up her lunch in the street.

Other that one incident, the week went smoothly. Vinnie was so euphoric that Tony was back in the system that Steph was afraid he was going to hug her … or worse yet, kiss her. There hadn't been any trouble picking up skips, Melvin got his raise, and she hadn't seen Ranger again. They were sitting in the office when an idea struck her. It was time to celebrate.

"Hey, how about we all go out Saturday night? A real girls' night out, you know, fancy dinner and then some clubbing? I could use some happy right about now."

"Girl, this here week calls for a celebration. You're lucky Connie and me never turn down a drink!"

"Well if we're gonna go out and paint the town red, you know what that means don't ya?" Connie looked back and forth between them. The three friends looked at each other and whooped, "Shopping!" and took off for the mall.

Steph called the rest of the group and invited them to dinner on Saturday night, telling them that she would pick them up at 7pm. She called a limo company and ordered the spiffiest car with the handsomest driver they had. The car would be stocked with champagne, chocolate, and goodies. Next she called Gennaro's, a small but exclusive Italian restaurant just outside of the 'Burg to make reservations.

3-2-1

Steph watched as the white stretch limo pulled up and the handsome chauffeur stepped out to escort her from her front door and hand her into the car. The limo company had done a great job in the eye candy department, and one after another, the friends were picked up at their homes and handed into the back seat. Laughter and champagne flowed and by the time the group got to the restaurant, everyone had a lovely glow.

They were escorted to their dining room, orders taken and more champagne poured. Girl talk took over, with Mary Lou telling everyone how she got rid of Lenny and the boys for the night. Christie and Haver, RangeMan's lawyer, were living together, so when she told him they needed a little break from each other, Haver almost had a stroke. He was so relieved that it was only a girls' night out that he didn't put up any argument at all.

Lula laughed. "I called my man Tank and told him that it was just him and his hand tonight, 'cause this here was some serious par-taying! He told me he had to work anyway, so it don't matter. Took all the fun outta my news." The group laughed as she sulked.

"Oh Albert was only too happy to see me have some fun. He's such a thoughtful man." Val twittered as the rest of the group rolled their eyes and Connie stuck her finger in her mouth and faked a gag.

Appetizers arrived and were passed around, the entrees were oohed and ahhed over and the desserts were orgasmic. Everyone was sitting over their coffee when Steph announced that they were going to Atlantic City and the party amped up a notch.

Val and Connie had gone off to the Ladies' Room and when she came back, Val leaned over to Lula. "I could swear that I just saw that big RangeMan fellow that you date. I thought he told you that he had to work tonight?"

"Musta been another tall, gorgeous hunka dark chocolate, 'cause Tank is manning the Control Room tonight." Lula said with a smile.

But when Connie came back to the table, she whispered to the group, "I just saw Tank and Hal and Lester out on the patio. Did you invite them too, Steph?"

The expression on Steph's face answered that question and the girls all went to take a peek out onto the patio to see what was going on. They watched as Bobby and Haver joined the group, all doing the man-hug thing, smiling and clapping each other on the back. They could hear their quiet conversation but it didn't give a hint about what the guys were doing there. The men just stood around talking, obviously waiting for somebody, and the girls didn't have to wait long to find out who that was.

The Merry Men all turned in the direction of the female voice that called, "Gentlemen!" and a tall, elegant blonde strode up to them. Hal hung back looking uncomfortable while the blonde was enveloped in bear hugs and kissed on both cheeks by the rest of the guys. They obviously knew each other well and it looked like a reunion of old friends.

A minute or two later, Ranger strode across the patio and joined the group, riveting Steph's attention. The blonde stepped into his arms and he pulled her close, molding her body to his, kissing her with a raw passion. Steph felt like she had been punched in the chest and just stared at them. She didn't feel Lula's arm come around her, or Christie take her hand. She couldn't breathe as their kiss went on forever and when it finally broke, Ranger cradled the blonde's face in his hands and said, "God I missed you!" and he kissed her again.

The Maitre'd came to show the group to their table and they turned to walk away, all but Ranger, the blonde standing next to him. He gave her a little push, as if to tell her to go with they Merry Men, and said, "Go ahead, Babe, I'll be right there." If he had slapped Steph across the face, it couldn't have hurt more. He turned then, and again, met Steph's eyes. She had no idea what he could read in her face, but all she saw was cold indifference in his. He barely gave her a nod, and then was gone.

Stephanie stumbled into the Ladies' Room and leaned against the sinks trying to regain her composure. He said he had moved on, now she knew with whom. She got sick to her stomach when she realized that the guys all knew this woman, and a thousand questions flashed through her mind. She looked in the mirror and lectured herself … '_No more victim Stephanie, you can get through this. All you have to do is walk out the door with your head up. That's all you have to do … one foot in front of the other, just like always.'_

_And that's exactly what she did. Her head held high, she managed to walk out of the restaurant and into the waiting limo. The door had barely closed when she lost it, but she had made it that far._

Stephanie and Ranger had been friends, lovers, and partners.

They had been apart two months, one week, four days, nineteen hours, and thirty-one minutes.

**TBC …**

**So, is this blonde Ranger's new love? How come the Merry Men never told Steph about her … seems like they knew all about her. Can she trust the Merry Men? What should Steph do now? Thanks for all of your wonderful reviews. Steph reads them while she's soaking in her new bath tub. Please keep them coming!**


	10. Face Off!

_**Disclaimer: Everyone but Tessa belongs to Janet Evanovich and I'm just playing.**_

**_Warnings: Language, All 12 books._**

**_A/N: There needs to be an award for editors, because Karen has earned it! Thank you to all of you wonderful readers and reviewers. If you want to see what I think Morelli looks like, check out my Profile on FF. Please keep the reviews coming, Ranger and Steph and I love them … _**

_**The Name Of The Game!**_

_**By Stayce (XJerseyGirl)**_

**_Chapter 10: Face Off!_**

It had been such a huge struggle for Steph to walk past the Merry Men and Ranger … and his blonde bimbo who coolly looked her up and down. But she hadn't run out of the restaurant like some whipped dog, she had walked right past their table with her head held high, had even stopped and thanked the owner for a wonderful dinner, smiling and shaking his hand. She could feel Ranger's eyes on her, making it all the more important that she stay calm, and she did herself proud. And now, two days later, Lula was trying to kill her.

Lula took the corner on two wheels and Steph was thanking God for the guy who invented seat belts. She had a white-knuckled death grip on the dashboard and both feet on her imaginary brake as Lula hurtled through the streets of Downtown Trenton at break neck speed. Lula screeched to a halt in front of an old apartment building down on Front Street and almost threw Steph through the windshield. Zero to sixty Steph could handle, sixty to zero was an entirely different matter. Lula threw the car into park and yanked the key out of the ignition.

She turned to Steph as she hauled her gun out of her bag. "What the hell you waitin' for, hurry up so we can get this asshole skip! I need to get me some lunch!"

"What the hell is wrong with you? Are you trying to kill us?" Steph asked as she peeled her fingers off the dash. "And it's only 9:30, it's too early for lunch." Steph flexed her fingers, trying to get the blood circulating in them again as she climbed out of the car. Understanding hit her. "Uh-oh! Is Tank still in the doghouse?

"You bet your skinny white ass he is 'cause he ain't getting into MY house! I gave him a call after we got back from Atlantic City. He didn't say a THING about showin' up at the same place we was at. He must think I'm stupid!"

Lula paced the sidewalk, gun in hand, slapping it against her thigh. She was a vision today, in hot pink and black spandex and a nickel-plated .45 automatic. Her hair was in a million tiny braids, each one ending in a matching hot pink bead. She'd stalk six paces, turn sharply and stalk back. Every time she turned, the beads would swing around and smack her in the face, increasing her fury.

"And then," she ground out, "and THEN he had the nerve to show up at my door, sweet as you please like nothing was wrong! Wanted to spend Sunday mornin' in bed wit his 'Sugar Mama', the son of a bitch!" Lula gestured wildly with the gun as she ranted and Steph resisted the urge to hide behind the car.

Steph finally managed to get the gun away from Lula and stuffed it back in her purse. She tossed the bag onto the passenger seat of the SUV, slammed the door and beeped the locks before Lula could snatch it back from her. Lula, in full rhino mode, pacing and ranting was a force to be reckoned with. Lula in full rhino mode and armed, was a thing to be feared.

She gave up trying to clam down her friend, and leaned back against the side of the vehicle to wait out the tantrum. When she realized that she had adopted the official RangeMan pose of arms folded over chest and ankles crossed, she quickly boosted herself up onto the hood of the car. _Old habits die hard_, she thought, then forced her mind away from the past and focused instead on her irate friend.

"Lula, I don't get why you're so mad at Tank. Is it because he didn't tell you he was going out to dinner?"

Lula finally stopped pacing and stood stock still, all the mad gone out of her. Steph's 'larger than life' girlfriend seemed to deflate right in front of her eyes. She slowly walked over to stand right in front of Steph, her hands fisted at her sides, and just looked down at the ground. She took a deep breath before she started to speak, but still didn't look at Steph.

"It isn't that Tank didn't tell me he was goin' to the restaurant. It's that he knew we was all gonna be there. When I thought about it, ya know … after, I remembered that he asked a awful lot of questions … what was we gonna do, where was we goin', stuff like that." She hesitated for a couple of seconds and then looked at Steph. "I think you was set up… and I helped them do it. I gave 'em all the information they needed, where we'd be, what time ... what happened to you Saturday night was all my fault."

Coming from a family that said 'I love you' with pineapple upside-down cake, Steph had never been a huggy kind of person and PDAs really made her uncomfortable. Still, she had never seen Lula like this before. She slid off the hood of the Expedition and awkwardly put her arms around her friend, giving Lula a stiff hug, then quickly stepping back ... embarrassed.

"Lula, how could you know? You were just talking with your boyfriend and … ohhhhh! That's it, isn't it? You think Tank pumped you for information, don't you?"

Lula looked away, over Steph's shoulder, and took a ragged breath. Her voice was so small and sad. "After all the guys I been with, I thought he was different, ya know? I trusted him. I can't believe I was so stupid." She just stood there, slowly shaking her head.

"You love him?" Steph asked, already knowing the answer to the question.

"I thought I did. Well, yeah, I guess I do. But I thought he loved me back."

"So you think he strung you along all this time just in case he might need to pump you for information someday? Come on, Lula, you know better than that! You read guys too well to let him play you and I've seen him make you walk on air!"

"All I know is after everything you done for me, I promised myself I'd always have your back, and here it was, ME, that helped 'em hurt you." Steph panicked as she watched the tears well up in Lula's eyes.

"Okay that's it! Lula, back in the car." She beeped the doors open and they climbed back in and motored over to the Dunkin' Donuts Drive-Thru. Armed with love in the shape of a dozen Boston Crèmes and a dozen assorted, Steph bombed through the front door of the bond's office.

"No Melvin and Vinnie? Good!" Steph asked as she set down the boxes, then looked around and realized that Lula was still outside sitting in the Expedition.

"Gone, it's just us girls. Why? What's going on?" Connie called after Steph who had gone outside to get Lula.

Connie took one look at Steph hauling Lula out of the car and into the office, and dragged a couple of chairs over to her desk. Grabbing the coffee pot, she filled three mugs, plopping one down in front of each chair, then disappeared into the storage room and reappeared with a bottle of Wild Turkey, pouring a healthy dose into each mug.

"What? It's for medicinal purposes." Connie declared, noticing Steph's look. "You two look like you could use it. Now, what's going on?" Connie sat in her chair and leaned her elbows on the desk.

"We need to talk about Saturday night!" She said to Connie while nodding her head toward Lula. "It seems that Lula here blames herself for telling Tank where we were gonna be on Saturday night and helping them to set me up."

Connie grabbed her coffee and a donut and leaned back in her chair, "That's bullshit and we all know it!"

"Exactly!" Steph agreed. "Okay, listen up," Steph turned toward Lula. "Saturday night was painful, I won't deny that. But maybe it was the final straw, you know, the one that broke the camel's back? It was like a turning point for me, all of a sudden, when the shock wore off, I wasn't sad anymore."

Connie sat sipping her coffee and nodding. Steph grabbed a Boston Crème and shoved half of it into her mouth. Lula looked at her suspiciously.

"Don't you see?" Steph said around her mouthful of donut. "I got mad! That bastard called her 'Babe!' Then it hit me, clear as day. Maybe he calls every woman he fucks Babe? There I was, in mourning that I lost the love of my life, and what I really lost was a son of a bitch who replaced me in a heartbeat with a Barbie doll! All of a sudden, everything just sort of clicked into focus. So if you really were responsible for them knowing where we were and for setting me up, I should be thanking you. No more crying Lula, not for either one of us!" Steph handed her a mug and taking her own, clinked them together with Connie's in a salute. "To us, girlfriends, we are woman, hear us roar." She took a big sip and shuddered at the taste of the whiskey in the mix, so she chased it with another donut.

Steph thought about how she really did need to congratulate herself. She had walked out of the restaurant and waited until she had stepped into the limo and told the driver to get them the hell out of there before she lost it. The girls were waiting in the car, sitting in silence and shock at what had happened and they had watched Steph as she took her seat and covered her face with her hands. She stayed like that until she was able to take a breath that didn't make her chest feel like it was going to explode.

By the time she lowered her hands, she was filled with a new resolve … no more living in the past, no more tears, no more feeling sorry for herself, it was time to stop denying what had happened and get on with her life. Saturday night was supposed to be about having fun, and by God, they did. The trip to Atlantic City was just what they all needed. They danced and gambled and drank and laughed, and they were all pleasantly looped by the time they got home sometime after the sun had risen. The chauffeur dropped Steph off last and as he walked her to her front door he made her smile when he said, "It's none of my business, but whoever that guy is, he's a fool."

She had smiled back at the handsome young man. "Yeah, he is!" she had said, but she wasn't going to be anymore.

Steph sat, lost in thought until she heard Connie blurt out, "Holy Fucking Shit!" Her eyes just about bugged out of her head and her jaw hit her desk. She quickly slid the bottle of Wild Turkey into the bottom desk drawer and hissed at Steph and Lula, "Don't look now, but we've got company." Connie plastered a pleasant smile on her face.

They heard the bell on the door as it opened and looked around to see the Barbie doll stroll in and walk up to Connie's desk.

Steph almost choked on her donut and took a big gulp of her coffee to wash it down. The whiskey burned her throat and made her eyes tear up, choking her even more as she tried not to spew coffee and donut all over the place. Lula was beating on her back, trying to help, but that only made Steph's face turn redder and forced the tears to run down her cheeks. The blonde looked her over, dismissed her immediately, and turned to Connie.

"Ranger asked me to bring this in and give it to a Miss Rosolli. I take it that would be you?" She said in a haughty tone. "It's the body receipt for Sergei Krelnick, we picked him up last night. Ranger said that you should just send the check to RangeMan. I would suppose that you know how to do that."

Lula looked at Steph and mouthed 'We' with a sneer. She rolled her eyes and made a pissy face.

Connie's pleasant smile tightened a bit as she replied, "Yes, I would be Miss Rosolli, and I do suppose that I can handle that little task," her eyes never leaving the blonde's. "And you would be …?"

The blonde, dressed in a RangeMan uniform complete with cap and utility belt, perched a slim hip on the edge of Connie's desk and held out an elegant hand. "I thought you would have been told. _I_ am Tessa Van Dyke, your new RangeMan fugitive apprehension agent."

Steph glanced at Lula and raised an eyebrow, while Connie's eyes narrowed. A RangeMan bounty hunter, huh?

Connie ignored Tessa's hand. "What exactly are your qualifications to be a bounty hunter, Tessa? Since you've been sent by RangeMan, I assume that you have the necessary experience and training?"

Tessa gave a little laugh. "Oh, I wouldn't worry about me, after all, if those two can do it," she waved a hand toward Lula and Steph, "how difficult can it be? Hal has assured me that I won't have any more difficulty than she did," jerking her head toward Steph. "If they call her the Bombshell Bounty Hunter; can you imagine what they'll call me?" Tessa flipped her very long, very straight blonde ponytail over her shoulder.

Lula snorted and stared down into her coffee cup, muttering under her breath, "Oh, I can think of a couple of things to call you, Miss Thang." Steph swatted her on the arm and shushed her.

Connie cleared her throat and folded her hands on her desk. "So tell me, who are you partnering with?"

"Partner?" She laughed. "Why would I need a partner just to escort a bunch of losers to the station? Hal said that he'd drop off a RangeMan vehicle for me to use, and that's all I'll really need."

"Um, Tessa? Have you ever MET a bounty hunter, or seen one in action?" Connie was clearly enjoying this little exchange.

Tessa gave a ladylike snort and tried to roll her eyes. "Well of course I have! Just last night I was with Ranger when he picked up Krelnick. He walked up to him and said 'You are in violation of your bond agreement,' and the man just held out his hands to be cuffed. Simple."

Steph sat with her fingers against her mouth so that she wouldn't laugh out loud. Krelnick was Russian mob and far from stupid. Steph could see Ranger now, all 6', 200 lbs of him, armed to the teeth with knives and automatic weapons, and covered in Kevlar, backed by 1000 lbs of Merry Men. Of course Krelnick went along without a fight. Somehow, Tessa had failed to make that connection.

"Well then," Connie smiled, "let's get you started. Give me a minute to get some files together for you." Connie started sorting through the stack of skip files on her desk, looking for the easiest skips.

Tessa turned to Steph and gave her an appraising look. "So tell me," Tessa asked. "How much longer are you going to continue working here? I mean, now that I'm here, you won't be needed."

Connie glared at Tessa's back and replaced the easiest skips the ones that were a little more difficult.

Steph put her best smile on her face and looked directly into Tessa's eyes. "Why would you say that? I worked here long before I joined RangeMan."

"Well dear, it must be so painful for you, knowing that I'm with Ranger now and you're … not. Looking at me everyday will be a constant reminder of everything that you couldn't hang on to. Why would you want to torture yourself that way?" Her voice was laced with mock concern.

Connie narrowed her eyes and shot daggers at Tessa's back. She flipped through the files again and selected a different set.

"He moved on Tessa, and so did I." Steph was really, really trying to be civil.

"Woman to woman, dear, I'm glad you've moved on. But really, you HAVE to do something about your style if you ever want to keep any man. I took one look at that furniture in the penthouse and I felt like I was in a middle class motel. And those clothes?" She said scornfully. "Oh my God, they're laughable! And all that stunning jewelry you didn't wear? Is it any surprise he dumped you?"

"Just look at how you're dressed now. Navy blue? Please," she said with a sneer. "You look like one of those office building maintenance workers, you know, a janitor." She gave a laugh, obviously tickled by her comparison.

Steph had a grip on the arms of her chair, probably the only thing that kept her from snatching Barbie baldheaded. If _this_ was the kind of woman that Ranger preferred, no wonder she didn't last long.

Apparently in love with the sound of her own voice, Tessa just didn't seem to know when to shut up. "Let's face it; if a man is going to keep you around, you have to have more to offer than just being able to give him a decent blow job. Even THAT gets old after awhile. I mean, no offense," she said disdainfully, "but look at you and then look at me! There's just no comparison."

"Sure, you're cute in a frumpy, dumpy kind of way," she said dismissively, "but to be with a man like Ranger, you have to be his equal. With men, it's all about ego. What man wants to be with a woman and have his friends wonder what he sees in her? He wants them to be envious, and they all are … now."

"Just look at your friends! Maybe it's a Jersey thing. Miss Ghetto Fabulous here and Betty Boop over there," she pointed to Lula and Connie, "the fat Meg Ryan wannabe, and the Blah 'Burg Housewife. I saw you all Saturday night. The only one with any style was the tall brunette and she's not from here. God! I hope it isn't contagious!" she said with a fake shudder.

Steph could hear Lula starting to growl, and she put her hand out to wrap her fingers tightly around her friend's arm.

Tessa turned to Connie and snapped. "What is taking so long with those files? Apparently efficiency isn't important around here either, is it?"

She pulled out her compact and lipstick from a pocket in her cargos and touched up her makeup. She smoothed the ponytail that had been pulled through the back of her cap and fell to her shoulder blades. Steph was tempted to tell her that she should tuck her hair up under her cap, but decided, 'Noooooo. Experience was the best teacher.'

Connie was slamming folders around on her desk and finally looked down at the stack she had chosen with an evil grin. "Alright Tressa, here you go. These are the perfect skips for you. You go pick them up, drop them off at the police station, and bring your body receipt back to me and I will write you a check. Simple as that!" She handed Tessa the stack of files.

"That's TESSA, and where do I find my car?"

Connie gave Tessa a perfect Cheshire Cat smile and pointed to the back door, then waggled her fingers as Tessa left and called, "Ciao!" after her. As soon as she heard the back door close, Connie grabbed the bottle of Wild Turkey out of her desk and took a pull straight off the bottle. She passed it to Lula, who was grumbling under her breath about the Ghetto Fabulous comment and Steph, who was just relieved that the woman was gone. Tessa lived up to every blonde joke ever told. The three friends sat in stunned silence and all agreed, Tessa was just too stupid to live.

"Where the hell do you think she keeps her flying monkeys?" Steph wanted to know as she took the bottle away from Lula and passed it back to Connie. "We have skips to get, Lula. We need to be sober!" She turned to Connie. "And what took you so long getting those files together? She was killing us here! It was like being pecked to death by birds!"

"I needed to make sure that she had just the right skips to start out her career as a bounty hunter with. I started with Eula, she has that aroma problem and Norvil the food thrower, Punky the Vaseline guy, and last, but not least, I'm sending her after our friend Lowanda, of humping dog fame!" Connie was clearly proud of herself. "And I have an even better list for tomorrow if she has the balls to come back."

"You are a genius, Connie." She stood and took a bow.

"She called me Betty Boop. You think I was just gonna sit here and take that? She has no idea what can happen when you fuck with a Jersey Girl and she should thank her lucky stars that she didn't really piss me off. If I was her, I'd just consider this educational. Might save her life someday."

Steph stood and stretched. "Come on Lula, let's get going. Connie, if you hear anything, you let us know, okay?"

"Wait! Did you see the car she was driving?" Steph shook her head 'No.' "It's a red Miata. Looks a lot like YOUR car!"

"I guess I should have expected that. I haven't signed anything so the car is still registered in my name, right?" She asked, with a knowing smile.

"True. Why? Steph? Steph!" Connie called after them, but didn't get an answer.

Lula and Steph walked out the door and found the Miata parked behind her Expedition. Sure enough, it was her car. No one else had the plates 'RangeBabe.' She had loved that little red car, and it deserved better than to be driven around by the Wicked Bitch of the West. Pulling around the corner Steph spotted Lamar Johnson, who she had picked up for bond violations for a number of petty crimes. An evil smile crept over her lips.

Fifty bucks later, she had the license plates from a cute little red Miata which now, mysteriously, had smashed head and tail lights, and looked like it had been abandoned. The police had been called, and the vehicle would be towed to an impound yard and a smiling Steph and Lula were on their way to pick up their first skip singing 'Ding, dong, the bitch is dead' at the top of their lungs.

Two and a half hours later, Steph was escorting Grant Dickman into the station. Grant was a female impersonator who went by the name Ginger Peachy and had originally been picked up for shoplifting $7800 worth of evening wear from Macy's. When the cops approached him, he had kicked off his 4" heels and sprinted down the highway like a world class track star. That added resisting and evading to the charges. When he saw Steph and Lula, he had tried for the great escape again, but had twisted his ankle galloping down four flights of stairs wearing those same 4" heels.

Ginger had no sooner limped through the back door of the station when Steph could hear a woman screeching at the top of her lungs. As they approached the desk, there was Tessa, screaming at Robin Russell who had her hands clapped over her mouth and nose. Eddie Gazarra was circling her, spraying room deodorizer with one hand and Febreze with the other. He called for bug spray, swearing that there were flies circling Tessa.

It was all Steph could do not to laugh out loud. Tessa was covered in garbage and stank to high heaven. She had sauerkraut dripping from her cap, smashed eggs on her shoulders and back, and it smelled like sour milk soaked her clothes. Brownish goopy lettuce leaves stuck out of the V-neck of her t shirt and were those cigarette butts stuck in the rancid spaghetti sauce in her hair?

She was screaming because she wanted to have Norvil charged and Connie arrested and the cops had gotten hysterical trying to figure out a charge. Morelli heard the commotion and came out of his office thinking that there was a riot, but stopped short when he caught a whiff of Tessa. He gallantly passed around the little jar of Vicks that all homicide cops carry with them to block the odor of dead bodies and Steph put a swipe of it under her nose.

When she saw Steph, Tessa turned on her. "You knew, you bitch, and you didn't warn me. You knew … he said so! He said you brought him in. You knew what he was going to do to me, and you never said a word," she shrieked, her voice filled with hatred. "You're jealous, but let me tell you Missy, no matter what you do he's not coming back to you, so you better get used to it." She turned on her heel with her nose held high and stomped out the door to her vehicle.

Joe watched her stalk to the back door and give it a shove that almost took it off its hinges. "Pissed, huh? Your new best friend?"

"Yeah, that's Tessa. My 'replacement' at RangeMan." Steph said sarcastically.

"Oh shit! I didn't know Steph, I'm sorry …"

"It's okay Joe; you had no way of knowing." She patted his arm and smiled at him.

"Let me make it up to you? Pino's tonight, I'll pick you up at 8 o'clock? Please? I'll even make the supreme sacrifice and take you dancing. How about it?" She couldn't help but laugh. He leaned against the desk next to her and held her hand as she collected her body receipt from Robin.

"Thanks, that sounds great. I'll see you then." She tipped her head back and Joe bent to give her a chaste kiss on the mouth. He hesitated a second and then he dipped his head again and really kissed her. His hands cupped her face and her fingers curled into his shirt as the old familiar feelings shot through her. He whispered against her lips, "I'll see you tonight," and he pressed his lips against her forehead. As good as it felt, she had to admit that his actions confused her and she watched him walk back to his office.

Steph turned to find Ranger watching her, and suddenly, Joe's actions made sense. He had known that Ranger was standing there. Ranger was wearing those damned mirrored sunglasses again, so that she had no read on his thoughts or emotions. She had to wonder if seeing her kiss Joe had any effect on him at all, if he felt the way she had seeing him kiss Tessa at Gennaro's, if he even cared. Probably not, she decided.

He gave her that damn head tip as she walked by, but as much as she wanted to flip him the bird, all she did was laugh and shake her head as she passed him on her way out to the parking lot. She stopped on the steps when she saw that Tank was leaning in the window of the Expedition, talking to Lula. His phone rang, and he gave Lula a kiss and jogged over to his truck. Steph got into the Expedition and looked at Lula. The smile on her friend's face told Steph everything that she needed to know. Lula was happy again.

Back in the office Steph turned in her body receipts and regaled Lula and Connie with Tessa's antics at the cop shop. Connie reciprocated with her story about the Miata, which the police had towed and Tessa had pitched a major fit over, calling the police to report it stolen. Officer Picky had responded and was unsympathetic since the vehicle didn't belong to Tessa. She got so angry that she grabbed Picky's pencil and broke it in half, telling him he should be glad it wasn't his pencil neck. Tessa was really racking up brownie points with the police.

Steph took off to deposit her checks, then dashed home to get ready for her date. She parked in the lot behind her condo and headed toward the back door when she felt eyes on her again. It was different from the feeling she got when Ranger was around, different from that zing of excitement that he gave her. This felt like she was being studied, like she was under a microscope. It made her uneasy, but not frightened. She looked around, checking windows and cars, but found nothing. Still, her spidey-sense was going off like an alarm system. Crap! Just what she needed, another stalker. Unwilling to give in to her nerves, she held her keys in one hand and her Glock in the other and let herself into her home.

At 8 o'clock sharp Joe rang her doorbell and he surprised her with dinner at Rossini's instead of Pino's. They drove to a small club in Philly and danced the rest of the night away. They chatted about all kinds of things on the way home, carefully avoiding the subject of Ranger. Steph watched Joe as he drove. He glanced over at her. "What?" She shook her head and just looked out the windshield. "No really, you wanted to say something. Go ahead and say it."

She sighed deeply. "Just thank you for the kiss at the station. I appreciate what you were trying to do, but it doesn't matter to him. He has Tessa now, he doesn't care anymore, and I've finally accepted that. You're a good friend Joe, and I love you."

"I know Cupcake. I love you too." He picked up her hand and kissed it, then put it down in her lap.

She shifted in her seat and turned back to him. "How come we never did anything like this while we were together? I don't mean dinner, as lovely as that was; it's too expensive to do on a regular basis. But how come we never went out to the movies or dancing or anything like that? We'd go to Pino's once in awhile, but mostly we just sat home and watched TV and had sex. That's all we shared. We never even really talked until just before we called it quits for good."

"Ya know, I thought about that, too. We acted like an old married couple right from the very start. We had no courtship, just fell into a routine. The sex was always great, but that's not enough to build a forever on, huh? We're better friends now then we were when we were together. Why is that?" He glanced over at her.

"I don't know. Maybe because there are no expectations now, so there are no disappointments. Do you realize that we haven't had an argument since we broke up? The only time we didn't argue was when we were in bed, except when I wanted to be on top." They both laughed.

"Maybe that's it. Maybe I should have let you drive more often."

"Hell Morelli, you wouldn't even let me drive your car!"

"That's because you blew everything up. Remember my garage, and the car, the cello? It's the driving that did it and I value my guys way too much!"

"And that's another thing!" She reached over and laughingly smacked his arm. "What was with the 'guy code' all the time? The 'guys miss you'? What the hell? Why couldn't you ever say 'I want to make love' or 'I miss you'?"

"I guess it's just a guy thing!" He said, sending her off into gales of laughter.

By the time Joe pulled up in front of her house, they were almost in tears from laughing so hard. He walked her up the steps and took her keys, opening the front door. "Coffee?" She asked.

"No thanks." He held her hand and pulled her back to him, kissing her gently. He brushed the hair out of her face and looked into her eyes. "I miss you, Stephanie," he said softly. "Maybe someday you'll miss me, too." With another soft kiss, he was gone. She watched as he pulled away from the curb, making a U turn, waving and flashing his headlights as he passed her.

She locked up, checked on Rex, and climbed into bed, thanking God for her friends.

A-B-C

Twenty-five hundred miles away from Trenton, New Jersey, Ramon Escobar sat in his prison cell. He was nearing the end of a plea bargained, three year sentence for tax evasion, of all things. He had to laugh every time he thought about that. His lawyer was a genius, but then, the Feds didn't have enough evidence to nail him on anything else anyway. They had their suspicions, but that's all they had. Ramon smiled to himself, he had outsmarted the entire Justice Department … again.

He kept his hands clean, no direct contact with his organization's activities. He knew that the Feds were furious that they couldn't prove anything else. They got their revenge by housing him in this high security, hell hole penitentiary for what was essentially a white collar crime. But that was okay, he was still able to run things from the inside, and had made many good friends. There had been at least two attempts on his life, the last one aborted by his new right hand man here on the inside. Che had turned the shank on the hit man, earning himself a third tear tattooed on his cheek. One for each kill. A good man who'd be coming with Ramon wherever he went.

The perfect crime, Ramon decided, was the one that no one ever knew was committed. Too many had been caught because they needed to feed their egos, needed to let people know how smart they were, or how powerful they were. No, he was not a man who needed to have his ego stroked. He knew he was smart and successful and powerful, and that was enough.

Ramon thought of himself as a 'facilitator,' if you will. He made things happen … for a price. You could pray to God, but certain wishes might not be granted. Appeal to Ramon, however, and he would answer your prayers. If you could pay the price, anything you asked for could be yours. Did you want your drugs smuggled into the country, by boat? Or car? Or plane? Or in mules? Felons smuggled out? Did you need illegals brought across the border? By truck from the North? On foot, lead by coyotes from the South? By ship, in packing crates from the West? Your family rescued from a war torn sector? Name it, and it could be had … Do you want your lover's wife to disappear, your husband's latest girlfriend gone? Revenge on someone who had wronged you? Children for the pornography industry? Russian brides? Asian women for prostitution? That masterpiece in the museum that you covet? Passports? Weapons? Name it … when and where? A politician assassinated? A country overthrown? There was no job that was too large or too small.

A man with a reputation like his could only stay anonymous for so long. People talked. Of course, they only talked about Ramon once, and then they never talked again. He had decided to move his base of operations from the West Coast. It would be easier to keep a finger on the burgeoning activities in Eastern Europe from an East Coast city. His organization dealt more and more with the Russian mob, a ruthless, undisciplined crowd with no sense of loyalty to themselves or anyone else. This working relationship was necessary since the Russians had access to a ready supply of arms, from hand guns to weapons grade plutonium, from the old Soviet Union. But they could not be trusted and bore close scrutiny. Perhaps some visibility on his part would bring them into line, he thought as he massaged his numbing fingers. If not, the undertaking business in New York and New Jersey would find their profits skyrocketing. The thought made him smile.

On Che's recommendation, Ramon had looked at several small cities in the North East and had finally decided that the Trenton, New Jersey area was perfect for his needs. Trenton was a small city with an understaffed, underpaid, and overworked police force that had to deal with increasing gang activities and a doubling crime rate. It had areas of abject poverty, the perfect place to recruit 'associates' who were more interested in money than legality. It was far enough away from the Russian stronghold in New York that they had no foothold in the area, so Trenton would become Ramon's home turf, a safe zone.

He had been warned about RangeMan of course. Some of his associates had had 'dealings' with the security company that had not ended well for them. Ramon had never met the owner of RangeMan, but had heard of him. Ricardo Carlos Manoso also had a reputation as a man of strength. It was said that he could not be bought. Well, that remained to be seen, everyone had a price, if it was not money than, perhaps, the safety of a loved one. And after all, those who could not be bought could be eliminated.

Ramon rubbed his numb fingers again. The slot in his cell door opened and his lunch tray was shoved through. As he stood up to get it, an excruciating pain exploded in his head as his legs collapsed under him and he hit the floor. Ramon Escobar had stroked out.

Ranger and Stephanie had been friends, lovers and partners.

They had been apart three months, five days, seventeen hours, and fifty-four minutes.

_**TBC …**_

_**So, what do you think of Tessa? Is she the woman for Ranger? And do you think that Steph needs a love life? If you do, with who? Joe? Niko? Somebody new? Who do you think is watching Steph? And who the hell is Ramon Escobar? If you would like to see what I think Morelli looks like, check out the addy on my FF Profile. **_

_**Thank you so much for all the fabulous reviews and comments. You've all helped Steph through a heartbreaking time of her life. She took all the reviews that slammed Ranger and made paper planes out of them and flew them into the RangeMan parking garage. Hal delivered them to Ranger, who spent extra time beating on a punching bag in the gym. Steph says Thanks! **_


	11. War!

_**Disclaimer: Everyone but Tessa belongs to Janet Evanovich and I'm just playing.**_

_**Warnings: Language, All 12 books.**_

_**A/N: There needs to be an award for editors, because Karen has earned it! Thank you to all of you wonderful readers and reviewers. Please keep the reviews coming, Ranger and Steph and I love them … **_

_**The Name Of The Game!**_

_**By Stayce (XJerseyGirl)**_

_**Chapter 11: War!**_

Steph came out of the dressing room in the little leopard print wrap that all of Mr. Alexander's clients wore and flopped down in his chair. She had decided that it was time for a change, maybe a new hair color or style. She was tired of looking in the mirror at the same old Stephanie, the one left over from her old life. She needed a new look, she thought, a new image to match her new found self-confidence.

Mr. Alexander stood behind her, studying her reflection in the mirror, tapping a comb against his chin as he listened to her request. "Hmmmmmm!" Hair stylists and doctors both learn how to make that sound in school. It usually meant, "This is gonna cost ya!" He fluffed her hair, pulled it back, parted it in the middle, and twisted it up on the top of her head. "Nope!" He shook his head at her. "You'd be back here in a week searching for the old you. I know you all too well, darling." He looked at her disappointed face. "Heartbreak, huh?" he said sympathetically. "Oh, don't be surprised! I can recognize it a mile away." He rolled his eyes. "I used to change my look every time my poor little heart got shattered. My signature mullet has been every color known to mankind, and just between us girls, it doesn't help. That's what a new man is for!" He whispered that last part and gave her a knowing wink.

"Highlights! You need highlights and lowlights! They'll perk you up and give you a little glam!" He fluttered his hands around as he spoke. "We'll have Wendell set you up and then I'll be back to make you look fabulous, darling! I just have a quick little cut to do first." Wendell sashayed over with the rolling cart loaded with foil squares and bowls and brushes and prattled on about what an artist Mr. Alexander was.

Steph tuned him out and glanced in the mirror at the woman in the next chair. The entire time that Steph had been consulting with Mr. Alexander, the woman had been turned away from her, towel covering her head, reading a magazine. Now she found herself looking into Jeanne Ellen Burrows' calm green eyes.

"Stephanie," she said with a pleasant smile.

"Jeanne Ellen, what a surprise. How are you?" She was at a loss for what to 'small talk' with Catwoman about.

"I'm very well, thank you. I heard that you went through a pretty rough patch there for a while. How are you coping?" Mr. Alexander immediately came to attention at the prospect of gossip.

"I'm good. I guess you heard all the gory details." She gave Jeanne a rueful smile.

"I'm guessing that it was pretty ugly." Jeanne commented when Mr. Alexander turned her toward Steph.

"Yeah well, the world doesn't stop spinning for anybody." She shrugged a shoulder and Jeanne nodded.

"I couldn't help but overhear that you're in the mood for a change. Interested in changing something more than your hairstyle?" Mr. A's ears were practically flapping at this point.

"That would depend on the kind of change you were talking about, now wouldn't it?" Steph smiled at her.

Jeanne Ellen cocked her head toward Mr. Alexander, who was taking mental notes on their conversation. "Do you have time for lunch today? Say 1 o'clock, at Nick's? This might be the change you're looking for?"

Stephanie thought for a minute, and really, what did she have to lose? "Alright, Nick's at 1." Mr. Alexander turned on the blow dryer, clearly disappointed in the lack of gossip to share with his clients.

At 1 o'clock sharp Steph walked into Nick's and was escorted to a secluded table in the back of the restaurant. Jeanne sat with her back to the wall with a clear view of the rest of the place. Steph decided that she wasn't surprised since Jeanne was the female version of Ranger. She just wondered whether Catwoman carried two guns and a knife, too. Probably she didn't want to know.

Steph slid into her chair, ordered an iced tea and studied the menu. By the time her drink came and lunch had been served, the two women had exhausted all their small talk. Jeanne Ellen got right down to business.

"Do you remember our little chat that night at the jail? I told you that I had a proposition that might be mutually beneficial for us?" Steph sipped her drink and nodded. It seemed like a lifetime ago, and in a sense it was. "If you recall, I told you that I no longer did distraction jobs because of all the problems in allowing someone else to plan and execute the job. The distracter is simply bait and has no input. If something goes wrong, and it usually does, the bait is at the mercy of everyone else."

_Boy, _Steph thought, _Jeanne Ellen sure has that nailed_. Those had been her exact thoughts on the subject when she was still doing distraction jobs for Ranger. And the source of some heated arguments. She couldn't have argued with a single word that Jeanne Ellen said, even if she had wanted to.

"Well, you're absolutely right, but what does all that have to do with me?"

"I'm starting a security firm, I'm ready to apply for the license and I want you to be my partner."

Steph was gobsmacked and sat staring at Jeanne Ellen, fork poised in front of her open mouth. "Excuse me? Did I hear you right? You want _me_ to be _your_ partner?" Steph gave a bark of laughter at the thought.

Jeanne smiled at her surprise and nodded in response, spearing a broiled shrimp and popping it in her mouth. "Yup!"

"Jeanne, I know something about bounty hunting and distractions, but private investigations? Not a clue!"

Jeanne leaned across the table. "Stephanie, you have a skill set that's essential to PI work. You're an expert at research, and skip location. You have excellent interview techniques, people naturally gravitate toward you, plus you have that infamous spidey-sense of yours. The fact that you know set ups and distractions is just icing on the cake."

Steph sat back in her seat and grabbed her drink, taking several sips. "I still don't see what I could bring to the firm that would make you want me as a partner. I got the reward money for Karvic, but it's already tied up and I can't afford to risk it."

Jeanne nodded. "How about if I told you that I want to start by bringing in high dollar skips, like RangeMan does. We can pick and choose which ones we go after, by-pass the animals and the crazies, and go after the white collar criminals. We would only do the jobs that require finesse and not muscle. Like one of these."

She pulled several files out of her bag and passed them across the table to Stephanie who quickly scanned each file. All were FTAs who had committed fraud, embezzlement, extortion, forgery or identity theft. According to the files, while all were high bond and none were considered dangerous. She looked at Jeanne Ellen and raised her eyebrows.

"We pool the capture fee and turn it back into the business. Once it starts to make money, we split the profits 50-50. A week from Saturday, Skylar Pennington will be at the fund raiser for the new Pediatric Cancer wing at St. Francis," she tapped a manicured finernail on the file in front of Steph. "He'll be hob-nobbing with the crème de la crème of New Jersey society, probably looking for his next mark. Think about it Stephanie. We really have nothing to lose."

They continued discussing the possibilities of a partnership through lunch, and Steph left promising Jeanne Ellen that she would give the situation serious thought.

She drove to the office slowly. She was still pretty surprised at Jeanne's offer. Granted that she could plan and execute a distraction, could do the research and skip location, she could form her own team ... but she'd be working with Jeanne Ellen Burrows ... the female version of Batman. Would this be jumping from the frying pan into the fire? Or _worse_? Still, the prospect of starting a business from scratch, and the thought of trying something new and different, was kind of exciting.

She pulled up to the office and parked behind a truck that looked like Hal's. Steph hadn't seen Hal or any of the Merry Men for that matter, since that night at the restaurant. The group that had once been so concerned about her, had been so attentive to her needs, had disappeared. As far as she was concerned, it was like they had dropped off the face of the Earth.

She left the files that Jeanne Ellen had given her in her SUV. There was no sense in getting Connie and Lula upset over something that would probably turn out to be nothing. She walked in to find Connie sitting in her chair, drumming her fingernails on her desk and Lula leaning against the file cabinets, arms crossed over her ample chest. They both looked more than pissed.

Hal was sitting on the couch, hunched over and head down. He was the picture of dejection as he tossed a home made ice pack back and forth, between his hands. Raising his head when Steph walked in, she could clearly see the nasty black eye and bruised cheek that he was sporting. Hal was a big guy, huge even, and the thought that somebody could lay a hand on him in a fight said a lot about his opponent.

"Hal! What happened? Who the hell did this to you?" She knelt down in front of him to examine the damage to his face, gently turning it this way and that.

Hal shot a look at Connie and Lula and Steph followed his gaze. Connie nodded at him and Lula just shrugged in answer to his unspoken question. Hal looked at Steph, then quickly down at his hands, and cleared his throat. "Ranger," he mumbled.

"Ranger! Why?" Steph looked back and forth between Hal and the girls, and then got to her feet. "Tell me why he would do something like that to you!"

Hal still didn't look up and just shook his head. Lula pushed off the file cabinet and took a step forward, putting her hands on her hips. "Because of the Wicked Bi-atch!" said Lula, working on a full blown rhino mode. "Said our boy, Hal here, disrespected Miss Thang. Said Hal knew she was goin' bounty huntin' and he was supposed to be her partner. That he shoulda been there to protect her."

"So he hit you?" Steph was stunned.

Hal nodded his head slowly. "Right before he fired me."

It hit Steph then that Hal was out of uniform and driving his own vehicle during the middle of a work day. Hal was too much of a straight arrow to break any of the RangeMan rules.

"Did you fight back?"

Hal's head snapped up and he looked at her in absolute shock. "No! Never! I'm not that stupid!"

Lula chimed in. "Yeah, and since he lived at RangeMan, now he don't have no place to live neither. Ranger made him get out right away, the sombitch!"

Steph plopped down on the couch next to Hal, took the ice pack from his hand and gently held it against his cheek. "I'm so sorry Hal. This is because of me, isn't it?"

"Nah, Steph. Ranger told me to get out because he said he doubted my loyalty. I told him that I was loyal to RangeMan and he said Tessa was part of RangeMan now, and I couldn't be loyal to one and not the other. So I just stopped in here to say good-bye."

"Do you have plans, someplace to stay?" Connie asked. "Can you stay with Bobby?"

Hall shook his head. "Bobby offered, but at RangeMan, when you're out, you're out. Ranger made it real clear to everybody that he doesn't want any contact between present and past employees. I can't ask Bobby to take that chance."

Steph let out a heavy sigh. "I have to admit that I was wondering what happened to everybody. You're all so careful to avoid me these days. I know how important a good job is, so I guess I can understand."

Hal's face turned bright red and he quickly continued. "No! No, Ranger never mentioned you, he knows better. Things are bad enough at RangeMan now without him causing a mutiny. If he had said anything about you, half the team would have walked out on the spot and he knows it!"

He turned and looked into Steph's eyes. "We stayed away because we figured you hated us after what happened at Gennaro's. Honest to God, Steph, we were set up too." He leaned his head close to her and whispered, "Most of us didn't even know she was gonna be there," the flicked his eyes toward Lula.

Steph just patted his hand. She got the message that Tank knew about Tessa, loud and clear. She pulled her keys out of her pocket and took off her house keys, handing them to Hal. "No arguments, you're staying with me until you decide what you want to do. You took care of me; this is my chance to return the favor."

Hal stood and gave her a hug and asked her what she wanted for dinner. "You cook?" Connie asked, clearly surprised. Hal grinned at her. "Yeah, at one point I wanted to be a chef, except I'm too big to fit in most commercial kitchens. Tell you what, why don't I make dinner for all of us tonight. Steph has that great kitchen now and probably hasn't made anything more than coffee in it."

"I have so too!" Steph said indignantly. "Just this morning I made Pop-Tarts!" Everyone laughed and the mood was lightened. Hal took off to get groceries and have keys made, and Connie, chin in hand, sighed as Hal pulled away from the curb. "I think I'm in love," she said as she watched him leave.

"Maybe you're just the gal to give him a good reason to stick around Trenton? Ya been complainin' that a good man is hard to find … Hal's a good man and he looks plenty hard to me!" Lula waggled her hips at Connie who smiled and said, "Hmmmmmmm!" I wonder how he feels about older women?"

"Maybe I'll ask him for you!" Steph called as she grabbed her FTA files. With Lula riding shotgun, Steph went to do 'drive-bys' to see what she could find out about her skips. Four mid level Trenton bond jumpers were out there just waiting to be brought in and Steph checked out addresses and hang outs, family members and friends to get the scoop on each one. In no time at all she was armed with all the information she needed to apprehend them, and realized that Jeanne Ellen had been right … she was good at this!

Two hours and a couple of lucky breaks later, Steph swung by the office to drop off two body receipts and wait for Connie to close the office before they all headed over to Steph's for dinner with Chef Hal. She and Lula walked in to find Tessa perched on the edge of Connie's desk, nail file in hand and talking non-stop. Lula stopped short when she saw Barbie, as she called her, and Steph bumped into her, sending Lula stumbling across the floor.

Tessa barely turned her head to look. "Hi Grace, have a nice trip?" she sneered, then turned back to Connie and picked up her conversation right in the middle of a sentence. Steph and Lula both rolled their eyes.

"…and Ranger says that you're not supposed to give me any more skips like Norvil Thompson, at least not until one of his employees is free to act as my shield. Ranger fired Hal because he didn't go with me and he was supposed to, but I didn't tell Ranger that I told Hal that I didn't want him to come alone." She gave a lighthearted laugh. "I suppose you think that was really mean of me, huh? I guess maybe it was, but I didn't want Ranger mad at _me _and after all Hal likes Stephanie best and I don't think that's fair to me at all, do you?" she whined.

Connie looked like she had been sucking on lemons and Lula rolled her eyes and muttered, "The things ya see when ya don't have a gun!" having left her purse with her Glock in the Expedition.

Tessa finally turned to Stephanie and Lula standing behind her and flashed them her brightest smile. "Hi there! Connie and I are just getting to know each other a little better. It's always a good idea to be friendly with the help, don't you think?"

Steph just nodded and murmured, 'You bet!" and handed Connie her body receipts. Connie crossed her eyes and mouthed 'Thank You' at Steph for interrupting Miss Motormouth, and busied herself writing out the checks.

Steph threw herself on the couch and waited for Connie to finish. Tessa sashayed over and curled up on the other end, eyeing Steph. "Do I bother you?" she said in an ingenuous tone.

"No, of course not." _What? Are you stupid? Hell, yeah you bother me! _ Steph picked up an old magazine and thumbed through it, trying to act disinterested.

With Steph ignoring her, Tessa turned back to Connie. "Oh I forgot to tell you! I'm going to be a distraction!" she said excitedly, then looked over at Steph.

"You used to do lots of distraction jobs, didn't you?" Steph just nodded. "Of course, this will be very different from the ones that you were used to doing, this one is _way _out of your league." Stephanie raised an eyebrow. "Oh, I heard all about you! I mean, all you ever had to do was dress up in your regular clothes and make up to look trashy. And you didn't even have to work at _that_." Steph grabbed a bottle of water to give her something to do with her hands, other than scratching Tessa's eyes out. "You just naturally appeal to low-lifes and drunks. All you do was act like yourself and that kind of guy just follows you like you're a bitch in heat, right?" Tessa smirked in satisfaction, knowing she had landed a zinger. Steph choked on her water and Lula patted her on the back.

"I'm going to lure a criminal named Skylar Pennington out of a multi-million dollar fund raiser. I'll get him to dance with me and then pretend to feel faint. He'll walk me outside and Voila! Job's done."

_Wait a minute!_ Steph thought. _Skylar Pennington was one of the guys that Jeanne Ellen wanted to go after._

"Ranger thinks that I'm perfect for this kind of discreet, high dollar distraction since I have such sophistication, grace, and style and I'm perfectly at home with the social elite. Unlike someone like you, there's no chance that I'd ever embarrass him … I'm in my element with high society, just like you're in _your _element with the dregs." She gave a light, airy laugh. "Ranger knows that you aren't suited to this type of distraction any more than _I _would be suited to that nasty scum that you're so attractive to. What?" She said in response to the expressions on the girls faces. "Well just look at you … and then … look at _me_. There's simply no comparison." She practically sneered as she flipped her long, bleached blond hair over her shoulder.

It took all of Steph's self control not to jump up and slap the blonde right off her. So Ranger thought she couldn't do this kind of a distraction, huh? She wasn't sophisticated enough? She'd embarrass him? That ass! She was so angry she was shaking. The scum sucking sack of shit! After all the God-awful distraction jobs she had done just because he had asked her to! She'd been pawed and mauled and groped and drooled on and had taken more boiling hot showers then she could count to scour off the feel of their hands on her.

Now she finds out that he asked her, not because he thought she was good at the job, but because he thought she was in her natural element? That … that … Steph didn't have words bad enough to describe him! Shit! Maybe he moved her in so that he'd always have a willing victim for his distraction jobs? Maybe he decided that he'd move into upscale distractions and needed upscale bait?

She hauled out her phone and the business card she had gotten earlier. She punched in the number and when Jeanne Ellen's soft voice answered, Steph simply said, "Count me in!" Snapping the phone shut she thought, _Take that, Batman! _ She sat back on the couch with a satisfied smile.

Steph watched Tessa through her lashes. She obviously liked to live on the edge because she was looking Lula up and down appraisingly. "Do you always dress like an over the hill 'ho?" Tessa had chosen her next victim.

Lula bristled. "Over the hill?" she balled her hands into fists, focusing in on the 'over the hill' insult. Lula narrowed her eyes and put her fists on her hips … uh-oh, Steph thought, this looked like the gunfight at the OK Corral.

Lula slowly strolled over toward Tessa. "You sure like to live dangerous don't you, Miss Thang? You been livin' on your looks too long. Lula's thinking that maybe if you didn't have them looks, you'd learn some manners. Whadda ya think?"

Tessa paled under her spray on tan and quickly jumped up to stand behind Connie. "Who lit the fuse on your tampon? Can't you take a little constructive criticism?"

"Not likely I'd take fashion advice from the likes of you! Why you ain't even real! You look like one of them dolls. Bleached blonde hair, blue contacts, pumped up lips, fake boobs, liposuctioned ass … hell, even that tan ain't the real deal! Me? I'm 100 per cent real woman, just like God made me. And you can't improve on perfection." Lula stalked around Connie's desk as Tessa backed away. "Or you gonna argue that point too, Barbie?"

"Well!" Tessa retorted in a huffy voice. "I'm not going to stand here and be insulted by the likes of you!" She grabbed her purse and made for the door. "I'll go after that skip when I have the time, Connie, probably tomorrow," and Tessa fled out the door.

"You gave her another skip?" Lula demanded. "You coulda given it to us!" She pointed back and forth to Steph and herself.

"Nope!" Connie quipped. "Couldn't, wouldn't, and shouldn't do that to my friends."

"But you can to Barbie? Miss Con-nie," Lula wheedled in a sing-song voice, "What ain't you tellin' us, girl?"

Connie continued her paperwork and didn't even look up, but an evil grin spread over her face. "Do you remember that skip that Vinnie bailed out because Les Sebring refused to? You know, the repeat drunk and disorderly, the old lady?" The girls nodded. "Did you ever wonder why Les wouldn't bail her out any more?" More nods. "Seems the old lady cleans out the dog kennels over at the animal shelter in Hamilton Township. Misses her court dates every single time and doesn't like it when somebody comes to pick her up. She throws stuff at 'em. Guess what she throws?" Connie looked up at them.

"Oh my God!" Steph choked out, "maybe we should call the station and warn them to get out the air freshener!"

The friends were still laughing when Connie locked up the office and they all motored over to Steph's for dinner. Hal was definitely a talented cook and the gourmet dinner was wonderful, capped off with fabulous lemon mousse cake with raspberries. While the girls sat around the table and chatted, Hal was on kitchen duty. Connie's eyes rarely left Hal, and Hal sneaked peeks and smiles at her, looking into her eyes as he filled her wine glass and letting their fingers touch as he took her plate. Love was in the air, all right!

When her cell rang, Steph checked the caller ID and excused herself, going into her bedroom and closing the door to talk to Jeanne Ellen. They agreed to meet the next morning to start working out the distraction plans. Steph quickly explained Hal's situation and told Jeanne that she wanted to ask him to join them. Jeanne agreed that Hal's experience with distraction jobs would be an added benefit to the team and would welcome him aboard. Now all Steph had to do was to convince Hal that this was a good idea. Steph approached him after Lula and Connie had left and it took all of two minutes for him to agree and the team was set.

Jeanne showed up bright and early the next morning and sat with Steph in the kitchen while Hal made breakfast. She had brought a more complete file on Skylar Pennington, who had skipped bond on multiple charges of bigamy, grand theft and crossing state lines for immoral purposes. His MO was to find a lonely widow with money and shower her with gifts and attention, sweeping her off her feet and rushing her to the altar in a small town in another state where no one knew them. He would convince her to keep it all a secret until they could get their friends and family together for a big surprise reception. Shortly after the wedding, the bride would find herself alone, with their newly opened, joint bank accounts cleaned out. Along with the money, jewelry, art, furs, silver, cars, coin collections and in one case, a champion show dog, disappeared with the groom, never to be seen again.

"So, how do we get him?" Jeanne asked after everyone had read the info.

"If we can believe what Tessa said, she plans on doing a damsel in distress routine to get him outside. They have to get him away from the other guests in a quiet and discreet manner so that there won't be any embarrassment to St. Francis and so that the fund raiser won't be interrupted." Hal offered.

"How about if we set him up with a new mark ourselves? He'd be so focused on cozying up to a new target, that he might not realize that _he's _the target. What do you think?"

"Do we know someone who fits the profile for his other marks?" Jeanne asked.

"No, I don't." Steph smiled. "But I bet I know someone who does."

Two hours later, everything was arranged. Steph would accompany Niko Ramos who was on the planning committee for the Pediatric Cancer Center Fund Raiser, Hal, who would be introduced as the newest star in the WWF, would escort Jeanne Ellen and Alexander Ramos would escort a lovely widow by the name of Regina Garibaldi. Regina, under her married name, was a women's rights activist and jumped at the chance to nail a scumbag like Skylar. She would be the mark. With a few phone calls, Steph found out that she went to high school with the night's event planner, Anne Carducci. A single phone call persuaded Anne to seat Skylar at Alexander Ramos' table. The stage was set.

Jeanne Ellen's regular team members, Scott and Dean, were brought in and hours were spent just getting comfortable with each other. The floor plan of the Civic Center was secured and all the entrances, exits and problem spots were noted. Plan A, Plan B, and Plan C were formulated and every possible contingency analyzed. A guest list was obtained and pored over, mikes and ear pieces were readied. The security chief for the Civic Center was informed of the takedown plans. The 'mark' had been prepped and rehearsed for her part, and taught how to operate the earpiece and mike she would wear. Even Alexander Ramos was amused at the prospect of seeing Steph in action.

The day of the fundraiser, Steph and Jeanne Ellen pampered themselves and tried to relax. They spent the day at a spa and emerged looking like two of the rich and famous who would be attending tonight's festivities. Later, dressed in a couture blue silk that matched her eyes, courtesy of Alexander's Magic Closet, and accessorized with a mike, an earpiece, her Cheetah in a thigh holster, and a stun gun in her bag, Steph was handed into Alex's limo by a smiling Costas.

Steph looked through the crowd at the Civic Center and spotted the other members of the team. Scott caught her eye and nodded toward a table Pennington where already seated. Alexander and Regina went off to greet friends and Niko took Steph to their table where they introduced themselves to Pennington. Niko went looking for other committee members, leaving Steph with a wink and a soft kiss.

After making small talk for a few minutes and never raising his eyes above her cleavage, Skylar asked Steph to dance. She had to admit that he was a good dancer, but someone in his line of work had to be. He was a smarmy individual and she wondered what all those women saw in him, no matter how desperate they were.

"May I ask you a favor, Mr. Pennington?" Steph looked up at him through her lashes.

"Certainly, pretty lady, if I get to ask one in return." Steph suppressed a groan.

"There will be another lady at our table this evening, Regina Garibaldi. Would you please ask her to dance sometime during the evening? She was widowed several years ago, and this is the first time that she's been out since her loss. She loved to go out and dance. And now, she sits all alone in that huge mansion. Proof positive that money can't buy happiness. Such a pity." Steph watched as Pennington's eyes glazed over when she mentioned the mansion and the money. It was greed, she supposed.

It was amazing to watch the transformation Pennington underwent from smarmy lecher to attentive gentleman. He stood when Alex and Regina came to the table and raised her fingers to his lips; he helped seat her and adjusted her wrap over the back of her chair. Steph could tell that he was mentally estimating the value of the huge diamond earrings and necklace that Regina was wearing, and monopolized her time on the dance floor. He focused entirely on her, to the point of ignoring the others at the table.

The team was able to hear his entire conversation with Regina and an hour into the gala, suggested that they go somewhere quiet so that they could talk. Regina played her part like an Academy Award winning actress, acting flattered and flustered. She hurried over to tell Alexander that she was leaving and excused herself to the ladies' room, promising Pennington to meet him at the elevator.

Steph, Regina, and Jeanne Ellen met and quickly went over the exit plan one last time. They would walk Regina to the elevator where Dean, Scott, and Hal would be waiting. But instead of Regina taking Pennington's arm, Steph would step to one side, Jeanne Ellen to the other. The guys would push Pennington onto the elevator and once the doors closed, Hal would cuff him and they would all ride down to the garage where a car and driver were waiting. Regina would return to Alexander and a good time would be had by all.

The girls left the ladies' room, chatting and laughing, and walked Regina over to Skylar. He smiled as he saw her approach and said loudly enough for everyone to hear, "I'm going to remember this night for the rest of my life." To which Regina replied, "Yes, I imagine you will."

With that, the elevator doors slid open and Regina stepped back. Skylar found himself on the elevator with Steph holding one arm and Jeanne Ellen the other. Hal clicked on the cuffs and Steph leaned in to whisper, "Claude Crapper, you are in violation of your bond agreement. We are Fugitive Apprehension Agents charged with bringing you back into the system." As the doors closed, Skylar watched Regina smile and give him a little wave.

The elevator only stopped on one other floor before it opened on the garage level. There were several couples waiting to get on, and they had to move to the side to let the group exit. Steph stepped off of the elevator and stopped directly in front of Ranger and a chattering Tessa while she waited for the others to move. Tessa's voice died in her throat as Ranger's eyes flicked over the team and held on Pennington for a long second before coming back to Steph's. Stephanie looked him squarely in the eyes and gave him an almost imperceptible nod of her head. His face didn't betray any emotion, but the muscle that was working in his jaw spoke volumes.

D-E-F

Ramon Escobar lay in the hospital unit of the federal penitentiary where he was housed. Flat on his back on a rock hard mattress, looking at the ceiling, he was trapped inside his own body. It was an exercise in humiliation, like a punishment from God for his misspent life. He had a tube stuck up his dick so he could pee and they had put a diaper on him. His mind had screamed at them to stop, but they ignored him. Someday they would pay. They would all pay.

The doctors and nurses and attendants came in and out, poking and prodding. He heard them say stroke. Impossible, he thought. He was only thirty-six years old and in perfect health. Left with nothing to do but lie there and think, Ramon had come to the conclusion that the stroke was not of his body's making. He was convinced that it had been drug induced. The important questions remained unanswered: by whom, and even more importantly, why?

Yet another medical team had paid him a visit. This group was only interested in the scar on his face. Ramon had been a handsome man until he got into a fight. His opponent had been an expert with a knife and he had sliced Ramon's face open like a ripe melon.

The doctors talked about surgical techniques, nerve damage, scar tissue. Were they thinking of using him as a guinea pig? Didn't they know that he could hear them?

They shaved off his moustache and goatee, then measured his face, paying close attention to the scar, photographing him from ever angle. They examined his blind eye, using medical terms that he had never heard before. Did they plan on repairing the scar … could they do that without his permission? The scar defined him.

The jagged white line ran from his forehead through his eyebrow and eye, down his cheek through his upper lip. It had healed so that the lip was curled in a permanent sneer giving him a cold, cruel look that made men shake in their boots. The eye had changed color as it healed, had gone from dark brown to a pale blue with a slit of black where a pupil should have been. It was the devil eye, ojo de diablo. It made all who saw him, fear him.

The scar had served him well.

Ranger and Steph had been friends, lovers, and partners.

They had been apart three months, three weeks, six days, nine hours, and twenty-one minutes.

_**TBC …**_

Thanks for all those wonderful reviews. So, do you think that Steph should be proud of herself? What do you think about her going into business with Jeanne Ellen? Can she be trusted? Do you think Ranger is pissed that Steph beat him to the high dollar skip? And what about Ramon?

Please keep those reviews coming in, Steph reads them to Hal while he cooks for her. Oh, Hal wants to know if you think he should hook up with Connie?


	12. Need For Speed!

_**Disclaimer: Everyone but Tessa belongs to Janet Evanovich and I'm just playing.**_

_**Warnings: Language, All 12 books.**_

_**A/N: There needs to be an award for editors, because Karen has earned it! Thank you to all of you wonderful readers and reviewers. Please keep the reviews coming, Ranger and Steph and I love them … Don't forget to read and review Akasha's Living on a Prayer ... It's wonderful!**_

_**The Name Of The Game!**_

_**By Stayce (XJerseyGirl)**_

_**Chapter 12: Need For Speed!**_

Niko stood, tossed his napkin on the table and smiled down at Stephanie. He took her hand and gently pulled her up out of her chair, leading her out onto the dance floor again. He was taller than either Ranger or Joe, yet when she stepped into his arms, they fit together perfectly. He moved them across the floor effortlessly, and Steph had to admit that she was really enjoying herself. It had taken her a long time to get to this point, of being able to have fun again, and it felt really good to be happy.

It had been a couple of weeks since the take down at the St. Francis Hospital Fund Raiser and tonight, they were at Nick's Place near Princeton again. It had become a favorite spot for them to hang out, with great food and wonderful music. It was far enough from the Burg to prevent gossip, and close enough to Trenton that they could run over whenever they wanted.

Steph always had a good time when she was with Niko, he made sure of it. He was funny, charming, drop dead handsome and totally unguarded when it came to her. One of the first things that had appealed to her about Niko was that he had an expressive face, especially where she was concerned. He made no effort to mask his emotions, a huge difference from the two stone faces she had been involved with. Right now he was looking at her with a mixture of affection, humor, and mischief as he twirled her around, then dipped her low over his arm and she laughed out loud.

Niko had been a comforting presence in her life since her breakup with Ranger. He always seemed to know when she needed some company and would show up on her doorstep to bring her food or drag her out to a movie. He took her to the beach to lie in the sun, or to Deal to visit with Alexander, or into New York City for dinner and a show. He was her self appointed morale booster and he had done an excellent job. He was always there for her and she had come to depend on his calm, quiet support.

For her part, Stephanie accompanied Niko to all the hospital functions that he was required to attend. Like the fund raisers and charity events that raised money used to support the Doctors Without Borders program that was so important to him. He hated the rounds of boring small talk and rubber chicken dinners. Begging for donations and sucking up to the big bucks contributors was his idea of Hell. Stephanie made it all bearable; just her presence could make those evenings enjoyable for him.

Now, as they danced with her head on his shoulder and his fingers drifting up and down her bare back, she wondered exactly what is was that he wanted from her, and more importantly, what it was that she wanted from him. What had started as friendship, now felt like something more, but she just didn't know what. She definitely wasn't ready to rush into another relationship, but _'Ohhhh,_ she thought, '_being in his arms, with his warm hand on her back felt so good.'_ He had kissed her that once, but that had been months ago when she was so lost and in so much pain. She found herself wondering what it would be like if he kissed her right now.

The music ended and he held her hand as they made their way back to their table. Once seated, the waiter came with the dessert menu and Niko looked it over, feigning great interest.

"So, what would Miss Plum like for dessert," he said to himself with a grin. "Does she want crème brulee?" He looked at her and shook his head 'No'. "Cheesecake with cherries? No. White chocolate mousse with raspberries," he stopped reading and handed the menu back to the waiter. "The lady will have the mousse with extra raspberries and coffee, please."

Steph looked at him quizzically. "How did you know that I would want the mousse?"

"Magic!" he whispered. She narrowed her eyes and when he saw her expression he chuckled. "I watched you as I read the choices. Your pupils dilated when I got to the mousse, the hands down winner." He smiled, clearly pleased with himself.

"That's cheating," she laughed.

"No, that's attention to detail, an essential requirement in a care giver."

Steph wondered if there was more meaning in that statement than the words conveyed.

They danced again, both relishing the physical contact that it brought. When they finally returned to the table the waiter brought their coffee and dessert. Steph's eyes drifted closed and she moaned as she savored the first spoonful of the delicious concoction. She licked her lips with the tip of her tongue and when she glanced at Niko again, found that his blue eyes were riveted on her mouth. '_What was it,'_ she wondered_, 'with men and her mouth?' _She could feel the heat of the blush that stained her cheeks.

Steph was careful not to moan or lick her lips again; she didn't want Niko to think that she was playing games. Still, when she offered him a taste of her dessert, instead of taking it from the spoon, he leaned over and brushed the pad of his thumb across her bottom lip, putting it to his own mouth. Their eyes locked and Stephanie held her breath as Niko leaned in and brushed his lips over hers. "Delicious," he murmured against her mouth, and Steph knew that he wasn't talking about the dessert.

Oblivious to the other diners in the restaurant, Niko splayed his hand on the side of her neck drawing her to him, and kissed her again. The kiss was warm and soft and sexy and spoke of his attraction to her. It sent a shiver of pleasure through her and she found herself kissing him back. He broke the kiss and moved his mouth close to her ear, whispering, "Just in case you were wondering how I felt about you." She looked into his eyes and smiled at him as he gently ran his fingers down the side of her face and traced over her lips. She was drawn to this man, and she was trying to figure out if she was more thrilled or scared that he was so openly expressing his feelings for her.

She was sitting there, trying to analyze her feelings for Niko, when out of the blue she felt that old familiar tingle run down her spine and she froze, her breath catching in her throat.

She looked around slowly and found Ranger out on the dance floor with Tessa. They were standing stock still while the other couples moved around them. He was staring at her and for once Steph could see, as well as feel, his eyes on her. His black eyes bored into her and something, some emotion, flashed through them, but far too quickly for her to identify. Steph fought the urge to turn away. That's when the thought suddenly it struck her that the man she was looking at was a stranger, not someone she had ever met before. She calmly returned his gaze, looked into his face, silently praying that she could convey the same cool indifference that he usually viewed her with.

Tessa turned to see who Ranger was staring at, then wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling his head down so that he was forced to look away from Steph, and the moment was gone.

Niko had laced his fingers through Stephanie's, bringing her attention back to him. He had been speaking to her, but she hadn't heard him.

"I'm sorry," Steph said, flustered. "What did you say?"

"I asked if you wanted more coffee." He looked at her closely. "Are you all right? You look a little pale." His voice was filled with concern.

She took a breath and smiled at him ruefully. "I'm afraid we had an audience. Ranger and Tessa are here." She tipped her head, slightly, in their direction.

Niko nodded. "Then I think it's time for us to leave." He squeezed her hand reassuringly and signaled the waiter for the check. He gave Steph a knowing smile and raised her hand to his lips, brushing them over her knuckles. When they stood, they slipped their arms around each other's waists and headed for the door. She could still feel Ranger's eyes on her and wondered what kind of game he was playing. _'It's almost funny,'_ Steph thought, _'the old saying really is true.' _The opposite of love wasn't hate, it was indifference, and she realized that she really couldn't bring herself to care anymore. She smiled up at Niko as they walked out of the restaurant into the rainy night and she never looked back.

The valet had Niko's Aston Martin waiting at the curb. The car, a gift from Alexander, had been the source of a lot of friendly teasing and laughter between them. Steph had fallen in love with the speed and power of the vehicle, deciding that it was the perfect mode of transportation for the intergalactic princess that she had never gotten a chance to be.

Niko smiled at Steph before tossing her the keys. She looked down at the key ring in her hand and they turned to look at him, wide eyed. "Are you serious? You'd let me drive your James Bond car?"

"Only if you'll agree to be my Bond Girl!" he said with a laugh.

"Ohhhh, do I get to choose which one? I love all their names Tiffany Case and Vesper and Jinx."

"Hmmm, I was thinking more along the lines of Holly Goodhead or Pussy Galore." He laughed as she gasped and swatted him playfully on the arm before she ran around and slid into the driver seat of the sleek silver car.

Steph moaned in pleasure as she turned the key and felt the raw power of the engine throb through her. Running her hands over the steering wheel and gear shift, she sighed as her eyes drifted closed and she could swear that she came closer to an orgasm than she had in months.

Turning to look at Niko, she found him staring at her, his eyes dark and his want written all over his face. Steph licked her lips, then gave him an evil grin as she slammed the car into gear and flew out of the parking lot and down the deserted street.

The rush of 0-80 in four seconds was almost more than she could bear and when they finally came to a light and pulled to a stop, Steph was almost panting. Without even thinking, she turned to Niko and hauled him to her by his lapels, kissing him, tongue and all, for all she was worth. His hands fisted in her hair and when the kiss ended, they still didn't let go of each other, just staring, stunned, into each others eyes.

Niko came back to Earth first, grinning at her. "If I had known you'd have this kind of reaction, I would have given you the keys a long time ago!"

Steph was still breathless, "I'm sorry, I don't know what …"

Niko put his fingers over her lips; his voice was husky when he spoke. "Do you know how sexy it is to watch a beautiful woman handle a stick the way you do? I love a woman who likes to drive." He said in his best James Bond accent, and then bent his head to kiss her again.

Within seconds they were both laughing against each other's mouths. "Has that line ever actually worked for anybody?" Steph giggled.

"I doubt it!" He laughed. "Out loud it doesn't really sound very James Bond, more Austin Powers, huh?" He gave her a kiss on the forehead. "Come on, Miss NASCAR, let's see how fast you can get us home."

"Yes Sir!" Steph replied as she peeled off from the traffic light.

Neither Steph nor Niko noticed the car that had followed them from Steph's house to the restaurant, that had pulled into a dark corner of the parking lot to wait for them to leave, or that had followed them down the street, idling at the curb as they had sat at the light. Neither of them noticed the window roll down, or the telephoto lens trained on them. Neither of them heard the click, click, click of the photos as they were snapped. Neither of them could hear the driver speak softly into the cell phone, "Ich habe sie gefunden."

TBC …

A/N: I'm sorry that this is so short but Real Life has kicked my butt this week, between being sick, doing volunteer work, playing mom, etc. I haven't had time to do a real chapter justice, but I figured that something was better than nothing … so here it is. Steph needed to have some fun anyhow. I promise that I'll make it up to you next week. Thank you for all your wonderful reviews … You'll find out what's going one very soon now … just be patient a little while longer. Oh, and don't forget to read and review Kashy's 'Living On A Prayer' … it's sensational.

So, do you still think that Steph and Niko should get together?

"Ich habe sie gefunden." "I found her."


	13. Jenga!

_**Disclaimer: Everyone belongs to Janet Evanovich except the ones that are mine, and I'm just playing.**_

_**Warnings: All 12 books.**_

_**A/N: There needs to be a special place in Heaven for editors, because Karen has earned it! Thank you, Kashy, I love ya! Thank you to all of you wonderful readers and reviewers. Please keep the reviews coming, Ranger and Steph and I love them … **_

_**The Name Of The Game!**_

_**By Stayce (XJerseyGirl)**_

_**Chapter 13: Jenga!**_

Stephanie leaned against the passenger door of the SUV and licked the French fry salt off of her fingers. She had perfected the technique of eating an entire MacDonald's Value Meal without taking her eyes off of whatever it was that she had under surveillance, and tonight it was a skip's house in Monmouth County.

Much to Steph's surprise, she had blended seamlessly into the new 'Team'. She'd had no doubts about Hal, after all, he had been a RangeMan and that said it all. Steph had worried about how she would be accepted because of her 'Bombshell Bounty Hunter' reputation and her unconventional methods. But she too, had fit right in. Dean Ballard, along with Scott Travis, had been on Jeanne Ellen's three-member takedown team since it had been formed. Stephanie had always imagined that the guys who worked with Jeanne would be quiet, professional, and lethal. Just like Jeanne Ellen was. Boy, was she ever wrong! While they were certainly both professional and lethal, neither of the guys was particularly quiet.

Her teammate, Jeanne's associate Dean, was sitting behind the wheel, binoculars raised to his eyes. He lowered one hand to the seat and 'walked' his index and middle fingers over to steal some of Steph's fries. Without looking down, Steph smacked his hand away. "Cut it out! You had two full meals, a happy meal and a shake! How can you possibly still be hungry? And how come you got the Happy Meal?"

"For the prize," Dean laughed. "It's for Harley. She's really into that My Little Pony stuff." Harley, Steph had learned, was Dean's five year old daughter. He also had an eight year old son, Carlton. Both kids had been named after the places where they had been conceived … the Ritz Carlton in NYC and the back of a Harley Davidson. Dean's wife was pregnant again and Steph was afraid to ask what they were going to name this one.

Dean was slim and blonde and had that chameleon-like ability to become almost invisible. He was capable of disappearing into the woodwork or blending into any crowd and no one would ever remember having seen him. It was an invaluable asset for a private investigator. As much as Stephanie hated going on stakeouts, surveillance with Dean was never dull. That he had a secret desire to be a standup comic came as no surprise, he had a full repertoire of funny stories and anecdotes. And since Stephanie was a fresh audience, Dean was in his glory. Even better for Steph, Dean ate nonstop and always brought a supply of unhealthy snacks that he happily shared with her.

Scott, on the other hand, was ex-military and approached each job, whether it was a stakeout, a takedown, or a trip to the deli, with the precision and planning of a small invasion. He was serious, moved quietly and was constantly on the alert, but possessed a wicked sense of humor that he displayed in the form of zinging one liners. Scott was well muscled and he provided the physical strength and an intimidation factor that some situations required. While Dean was blond and forgettable, Scott was a drop dead handsome lady killer. A self described Heinz 57, he was a happy blend of American Indian, Asian, and Hispanic. He was blessed with a heart-stopping smile that he used on women with calculated results.

Steph was considering how well this new team functioned when her earpiece crackled. "Heads up! Skip is coming your way! ETA sixty seconds," Scott alerted the rest of the team from his vantage point several blocks away. Dean started the SUV and Steph tightened the straps on her Kevlar vest. About a minute later, a bright red sports car came streaking down the street and pulled into the driveway of the skip's house, screeching to a halt in front of the garage door. "Okay guys," Steph said, "we won't have to worry about getting inside; he's out in the open." A rather portly, middle aged man climbed out of the sports car and went around to open the passenger door. He helped a tall, leggy redhead in a tiny little skintight dress step out of the car. She stumbled slightly in her sky-high heels, and grabbed onto the man's arm for support, simpering up into his face. He wrapped an arm around her, squeezing her ass.

Steph groaned as she trained her binoculars on the couple. "Oh yuck! How can she stand being mauled by that sleaze? Even from here he makes my skin crawl!" Steph shuddered, "Ugh!"

Dean shrugged, "Meh. The woman's a pro. I guess she takes it all in stride and just sees him as a cash cow. It pays her rent and her car note and puts money in the bank. Guess she thinks it's worth it." But even Dean's lip curled up in disgust as the redhead planted a lip lock on the skip that rivaled a CPR session.

"There's the signal! Let's go everybody, right now!" Steph said into her mike. Dean floored the SUV and pulled into the driveway right behind the sports car, blocking it in. Hal and Scott appeared out of the shadows, guns in hand, and while Hal pulled the skip off of Jeanne Ellen by the back of his neck, Scott took him to the ground and cuffed him. Steph jumped out of the SUV with her gun drawn, and covered the action from the other side of the vehicle. Jeanne Ellen leaned in to the skip and politely said, "Anthony Harlow, you are in violation of you bond agreement …" High fives were exchanged all around and in a matter of seconds, Harlow was secured in the back of an SUV with Scott and Hal and was on his way back into the system. He never knew what hit him.

Steph and Jeanne Ellen stood in the driveway and watched the SUV pull away. "I don't want to know where you have your gun stashed, do I." Steph asked, looking at Jeanne Ellen's skimpy outfit.

"Tricks of the trade," Jeanne replied with a shrug of her shoulder and Steph rolled her eyes.

On the way back to Trenton, they both had to admit that they were pretty excited about their success with the high level skips. The team's plans had run like clockwork, and their three apprehensions had gone off with absolutely no trouble at all. But all of them were also very aware that this was probably something akin to beginner's luck and their success shouldn't lure them into a false sense of security. They all needed to be on their toes and prepared for anything, each and every time they went on a takedown.

The conversation went off in a different direction as Jeanne Ellen told Steph about the prospective client that they would be meeting the next afternoon. It would be the first private investigation that Steph would be working, and she was a bit apprehensive.

"The prospective client," Jeanne Ellen started, "is experiencing unexplained inventory losses. What they originally thought was random shoplifting, has turned out to be large scale theft. The thief, or thieves, target high dollar items that seem to be disappearing somewhere between the distribution center and the retailer."

"It sounds like this is where the term 'it fell off the back of a truck' came from." Steph quipped.

"I think you're right. The kicker is that the thieves are replacing the legitimate items with knock-offs so that the inventory counts are the same. Until the store caught on, they were unwittingly selling the fakes."

Steph's eye widened. "Oh, that's not good! The store not only stands to lose its revenue, it'll lose its reputation as well."

Jeanne Ellen nodded. "Exactly! They suspect an employee, but there's nothing on any of the security tapes. The store manager is reluctant to call in the police because of the fear that it'll make the newspapers. They're definitely not in the market for the negative publicity that would be involved."

"So they called you because they want a discreet investigation."

Jeanne smiled at Steph. "They called 'US' because they want an undercover operative for a discreet investigation. This couldn't be a more perfect set up for your introduction into private investigation, Stephanie. I think that you'll find this job to be custom-made for your abilities."

Steph narrowed her eyes at Jeanne, suddenly suspicious. "And just where, exactly, am I going to be doing this undercover investigation?"

A sly smile spread across Jeanne Ellen's face. "Tomorrow at 3pm, we have an appointment with Eva Kalligas, the branch manager at Macy's in Quakerbridge Mall."

"Oh my God!" Steph breathed as her eyes glazed over. "I wonder if I get an employee discount while I'm undercover."

Dean, who had been listening to the conversation, threw his head back and howled with laughter. "I love a girl who knows what's important!"

Dean dropped Steph off at her townhouse and she walked into the kitchen to find Hal with his head in the refrigerator. It had become their habit to have a midnight snack together. "Apple pie and ice cream or a roast beef on rye with potato salad and kosher dills?" he asked.

"I have to admit that I'm starving, I didn't have any dinner tonight. How about both?" She cocked her head and fluttered her eyelashes at Hal who just shook his head and chuckled.

Hal pulled the sandwich stuff out onto the counter and proceeded to pile the roast beef on the bread and slather it with spicy mustard while Steph took out plates and glasses. "Milk, water, or juice?" she asked him, and poured milk for both of them. It struck her that her mismatched glasses and dollar store plates had never bothered her. But now that she had them, it gave her a surprising little thrill that all her glasses matched. Maybe there was a little more of the Burg in her than she liked to admit.

They sat at the counter and munched away, making small talk. "I saw you talking to Bobby in front of the bond's office when I went past this morning. How is he?" Steph asked as she took another bite.

Hal put his sandwich back on his plate and folded his arms on the counter and cut his eyes to her. "Not so good." When he saw the look of genuine concern on Steph's face, he continued. "He's talking about leaving RangeMan."

"What?" Steph almost choked on her food and took a big gulp of milk to wash it down. "Hal, why? Doesn't Bobby own part of RangeMan?"

Hal nodded. Bobby, Tank, and Lester are all partners with … um …" He looked embarrassed.

Steph put her hand on his arm. "It's okay Hal, you can say his name," she said softly.

He turned to face her and took a deep breath. "Bobby said that for the past couple of months they've had some awful arguments, and in the last few weeks they've escalated to real fights. Ranger's been losing his temper a lot. He even punched Lester. He doesn't want to deal with the clients, doesn't listen to the guys anymore and seems to be taking Tessa's advice instead."

"What does she know about how RangeMan runs?" Steph asked, the anger in her voice evident.

"Nothing," Hal said bitterly. "That's just it. The guys don't know what to do anymore; they're fed up with him."

Stephanie sat and chewed thoughtfully on her sandwich for a minute. She wished she knew what had happened to Ranger. He had struggled to build RangeMan from nothing into a spectacular success. He had worked hard to make a name for himself in the security industry, and now he was throwing it all away.

Although she never told anyone, ever since she'd recuperated from her illness, Steph had tried to do a little investigating on her own. She had traced the change in Ranger's personality back to that phone call he'd received the night of Tank's birthday party. That one word, 'Lazarus', the name of the man that Jesus Christ had raised from the dead, seemed to have ruined both of their lives, and it was killing Steph not to know why. Why didn't he love her anymore? Why had he changed so suddenly? Why was he throwing away everything that he had worked so hard to build?

She had tried to contact Ranger's family in Newark, but was told that they had moved back to Miami. The family in Miami had also moved and couldn't be contacted; no one seemed to know where they were. She had tried to trace them through Julie, but even she had disappeared. Julie had suddenly been withdrawn from her regular school and was now being home schooled. There were no listings for the family anywhere, and even Randy couldn't find them.

Steph had enlisted Randy Briggs to use his expertise to find out anything that he could about any military or government operations with the code name of Lazarus, but he had come up empty-handed. Randy couldn't access anything more than the most basic of Ranger's military records. And they revealed nothing. That didn't mean that there wasn't anything to be found; just that the information was so classified that it was buried so deep under 'Top Secret' that even Randy couldn't unearth it. Having exhausted all leads and ideas, Steph was forced to give up the search. Still, she'd always wonder what 'Lazarus' meant.

Hal picked up his sandwich again, "I don't feel so bad about losing my job now, Steph. I'm sorta glad I got out when I did. In case I didn't say it before, thanks for the asking me to join the team."

Steph leaned her head against Hal's arm. "My pleasure, big guy. There isn't anybody I'd rather work with," and they clinked their milk glasses together.

They finished their sandwiches and while they had their pie and ice cream Hal filled Steph in on his newfound relationship with Connie. _If ever there were two people who deserved to find each other,_ Steph thought, _it was those two. _As he talked about Connie, his face lit up and it was easy to tell how happy and excited he was. It was ironic that the hard-nosed, pistol-packing Connie and the sweet, tender-hearted Hal would turn out to be made for each other, proof positive that there was someone for everybody.

They finished their meal and Steph said good night to Hal and Rex and got ready for bed. The next day was going to be busy. She planned on breakfast with Connie and Lula at the office, and she'd have to give some thought to what she would wear to that client interview in the afternoon as well as do some pre-interview research for the meeting at Macy's. That evening, Niko was picking her up for dinner with Alexander at 'Opa!,' his favorite Greek restaurant in Long Branch.

She crawled into her bed, her mind still filled with unanswered questions about Ranger, frustrated that there was no way to find the answers. She dreamt about him that night, as she had so many other nights since the breakup. He was standing in the shadows of her bedroom, watching her. His eyes were soft and sad, a small smile playing on his lips as if he were remembering how happy they had been. He was her Ranger, her Carlos again, the man she had loved and who had loved her. His lips formed the words, 'I love you, Babe,' but he made no sound. And then he was gone, vanished like the dream he was.

The next morning, Steph woke with a headache and popped a couple of Advil before she stood in the shower and let the hot water pound the pain out of her. An hour later, feeling more like herself, she pulled up in front of the bonds office loaded down with donuts and coffee. She figured that it was still early enough that she wouldn't run into Tessa. Even though she didn't spend as much time hanging out at the office anymore, Steph still helped Lula pick up skips and talked to the girls on a regular basis.

She got the food out of the car and turned to find Lula holding the office door open. "Hey white girl, get your skinny ass in here right now. You got three hungry people waiting for ya!"

"Glad to know that's why I'm so popular!" Steph laughed as she moved past Lula into the office and deposited the donuts and coffee on Connie's desk. Melvin popped up from behind a file cabinet to investigate the goodies.

"I'm not staying long; I want to be out of here before Tessa shows up." Steph caught the look that Connie and Lula exchanged.

Melvin blanched. He grabbed his coffee and a couple of donuts and fled into the back room.

"Coward!" Connie called after him.

"Okaaaay! So who's gonna tell me what's going on?" Steph looked from Connie to Lula and back again.

Lula shoved a whole donut into her mouth then smiled and pointed to her mouth and shrugged apologetically. Connie shifted in her chair and cleared her throat. "Tessa stopped by a little while ago to tell Vinnie that she wouldn't be coming into the office anymore or be doing anymore skip tracing."

Steph looked at her with raised eyebrows. "Really! Did she say why?"

Connie clearly looked uncomfortable and couldn't look Steph in the eye. She chewed on her bottom lip a minute and then continued. "She said that Ranger sold out his share of RangeMan to the guys last night and that she and Ranger were leaving Trenton as soon as possible."

Steph felt like someone had punched her in the stomach and she sat down heavily on the couch. Her brain couldn't wrap itself around the idea of RangeMan without Ranger. Lula came over and sat beside her, running her hand up and down Steph's arm soothingly but Steph was too stunned to feel it. She forced herself to take a deep breath.

As bizarre as it sounded, Steph decided that it would be a relief not to have to worry about running into Ranger and Tessa everywhere she went. All too often she had found herself driving through town or stopped at a traffic light, forcing herself to look straight ahead for fear of seeing either of them in a nearby vehicle. She'd pull into the parking lot at Pino's or the TPD and check out the cars before she went inside.

It was the same even when she was out with Niko. Several times, they had changed their plans because they had seen the Porsche or the Mercedes at the place they had planned to go. If she didn't know better, she would have said they were doing it on purpose, stalking her to freak her out. Still, the thought of never even seeing him again gave her a small ache in her chest.

"Did she say where they were going?" Steph finally asked.

Connie shook her head. "No, just that they needed a change."

Steph sat there for a minute or two then threw her coffee cup in the trash and picked up her purse. "Um, I'll talk to you later," she mumbled and walked to the door. She stopped with her hand on the doorknob, remembering what it was that she had wanted to say and turned back to Connie. "I want to hear all about you and Hal. He seems awfully happy." Connie blushed a pretty shade of pink, and suddenly looked like a teenager as she smiled and nodded at Steph. "Me too," she said.

Steph got into her SUV and drove home on auto pilot. She needed to clear her head, so instead of going into the house, she went across the street to the park and sat on a bench by the fountain. She didn't know how long she sat there, lost in thought, but suddenly she knew that she wasn't alone. She could feel those eyes on her again and she felt vulnerable and exposed. She looked around and spotted a Lexus, parked down the street. She swore she had caught a glimpse of a camera lens sticking out the driver's side window just before it had closed and the car just sat there, idling. She tried to dismiss it as unimportant and nothing to be concerned about, but her spidey-sense was never wrong, and right now, her whole body was tingling.

Steph strolled through the park, trying to appear disinterested in the car, hoping to get a good look at the license plates. She had her purse slung over her shoulder, her hand inside, on her gun, as she walked. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Jeanne Ellen's black Jaguar pull up in front of her house and wondered if she could interest her in a little investigation. She pulled out her cell phone and dialed Jeanne's number.

Steph watched from the far side of the park as Jeanne stepped out of her car, and then answered her phone. As she listened to Steph's request her face broke into a smile and she turned to look around for Stephanie. Spotting her in the park, Jeanne waved and smiled like a girlfriend would, then hopped back into her car and drove around the park to pick Steph up, pulling up about fifty feet behind the Lexus. Jeanne opened the driver's door and stood up, one foot still in the car, her gun held tight to her side. Steph smiled and waved, hoping whoever was in the Lexus would think that she was just waiting for a girlfriend.

Jeanne Ellen kept a very low profile and while her name was known in the industry, she allowed little publicity and wasn't readily recognizable the way the Bombshell Bounty Hunter was. In fact, unless they had actually met her, few people even knew what Jeanne Ellen Burrows looked like. Steph was really hoping that this was the case with whoever was in that Lexus.

Jogging over to Jeanne's car, Steph got in and pulled her gun out of her purse. She quickly gave Jeanne the rundown on her feelings of being watched and the camera lens in the Lexus window. Jeanne nodded and without looking at Steph said, "Fasten your seat belt. This may get a little rough, so keep the safety engaged on your gun and your finger off the trigger." Steph had to admit that the smile on Jeanne Ellen's face scared her and she put her gun on the seat next to her.

Jeanne pulled away from the curb, and didn't look at the Lexus as they passed. She went to the corner and turned out of the neighborhood toward downtown Trenton. The Lexus waited a few seconds, and then followed at a distance. Jeanne drove along at regular speed for a couple of blocks, stopping at lights, using her turn signal, making turns. The Lexus kept a discreet distance, several cars back, but followed every move.

After a few minutes, Jeanne stopped for a light and commented, "Well, they're definitely following us. Let's see how serious they are." As the light changed, she floored it and made a right hand turn from the center lane, burning rubber across two lanes of traffic and zipping down a side street. Seconds later, the Lexus also turned the corner. Jeanne made a quick left, screeched to a halt and backed down an alley. The Lexus went flying by and the Jaguar tore out of the alley and up on the Lexus' rear bumper.

The driver of the Lexus realized that the Jag was on its tail and floored it, zigzagging through traffic. Jeanne stuck to the Lexus like they were glued together. As traffic thinned, their speeds increased and Steph found herself nervously glancing at the speedometer. Jeanne's hands were relaxed on the wheel and she was calm, competent, and comfortable. Jeanne Ellen was in her zone and her driving style was all too familiar to Steph. The Lexus blew through a traffic light at a busy intersection and Steph suppressed a small scream and fought the urge to cover her eyes as the Jag followed sending cars careening all over the place.

The Lexus turned into the downtown shopping district, weaving around delivery trucks and taxis, scattering pedestrians, and running lights with Jeanne and Steph only inches behind. In an effort to lose them, the driver hopped the curb and drove down the sidewalk, narrowly avoiding shoppers and parking meters with Jeanne Ellen keeping her cat right on its bumper. Back on the street and accelerating fast to escape its pursuers, the Lexus skidded around a corner on two wheels. An eighteen wheeler had pulled out of an alley and had stopped directly in its path. The driver braked hard and swung the wheel to the right, avoiding certain death. The Lexus skidded to a halt at the entrance of a multi-level parking garage and seeing an opportunity to escape, the car flew up the ramp.

Jeanne smiled to herself as she bypassed the entrance ramp, gunned the engine and smashed through the wooden crossbar that blocked the exit ramp, sending pieces of wood flying. Steph had a white knuckled grip on the handle above the passenger door. She had always heard it called the 'Oh Shit!' handle and she realized how appropriate that name was. Jeanne was fearless as she roared up the exit ramp in the parking garage. They could see the Lexus trying to turn onto the exit ramp and the Jag blocked every turn as they raced upward, floor after floor. Jeanne Ellen succeeded in herding the Lexus up to the roof top parking level.

The cars both shot out onto the rooftop at the same moment, circling each other. The Lexus made a dash for the farthest exit ramp and Jeanne blocked it by backing across the roof top so fast that Steph was sure that they'd go backwards over the edge. When the Lexus made an attempt to ram them, Jeanne Ellen roared past it, slammed on the brakes and spun the wheel like a movie stunt driver, making the Jag do a 180 so that it now faced the other car. The Lexus would attack, trying to make an escape and the Jaguar would counter, blocking it. Back and forth across the garage roof, they continued the deadly dance.

When Jean tried to block the Lexus into the far corner of the roof, the driver floored the car and roared directly at the Jag. Steph froze, holding her breath and she watched as the Lexus came straight at them. Everything clicked into slow motion, like watching a movie frame by frame. All that registered in her brain was the front of the car coming closer and the black-gloved hands of the driver, gripping the wheel. Steph squeezed her eyes shut and waited for the impact that never came. She opened her eyes as the Lexus flew past them and sailed over the edge of the roof into thin air. It took a moment for Steph and Jeanne to process what had happened and they leapt out of the car and ran to the edge of the roof.

The Lexus had broken through the thick metal safety rail that supposedly protected drivers from going over the edge and had become airborne, sailing fifty feet or more to land on the roof of the building across the street from the parking garage. The driver stumbled out of the Lexus and staggered, then ran across the roof to the exit door, stopping once to raise a gun and fire off several rounds forcing Steph and Jeanne to hit the ground.

Steph and Jeanne lay face down on the garage roof, trying to catch their breath. Finally, when the shots had stopped, they cautiously crawled to the edge and looked over at the car on the other roof of the lower building. "Holy shit!" Steph breathed. "I'll say!" Jeanne responded. They stood looking at the Lexus until the sound of a helicopter registered with them both. "We'd better get out of here fast!" Jeanne suggested and they ran for the her car.

With a calm that belied what they had just been through, they pulled out of the parking garage, passing the police and rescue vehicles that filled the street, responding to the accidents that their wild chase had caused. Stopped at a light, they glanced at each other and started to giggle, the giggles turned to laughs and before long they were both wiping at the tears that were streaming down their cheeks.

"Never let it be said that you lead a dull life." Jeanne Ellen sighed.

"Yeah, but I probably wouldn't have followed that car." Steph agreed.

"Stephanie, you have no sense of fun!" Jeanne shook her head.

"You … you thought that was FUN?" Steph asked incredulously.

"Sure! Didn't you?" And Steph just rolled her eyes.

Back at her house, Steph thought about putting in a quick call to Joe to see if he could tell her anything about the driver of the Lexus, but she changed her mind. She really didn't want to have to explain her connection to a car that had landed on the roof of a six story office building in downtown Trenton to a cop, especially _that _cop. Steph called Randy Briggs to run the plates on the car instead. Turns out the Lexus had been stolen from a dealership in Pennsylvania, big surprise!

She got ready for their afternoon appointment and while she waited for Jeanne to return, sat down at her computer and did some basic research on Macy's, Eva Kalligas, the Store Manager, and Evan Worth, the Head Buyer for the branch were the next searches she ran. At first blush everything looked above board, but she decided to do an in-depth background search on all the major players as well. Better to find out sooner, rather than later, if any one of them had something to hide.

Their meeting with Eva Kalligas went as expected, and by the time it was over, Stephanie Plum was Macy's newest buyer for high end handbags. Other than Eva, no one at all would know that Steph was a plant. Secrecy was imperative since everyone was under suspicion. No one had any idea of who the thief might be, how many people were involved, or even if they were Macy's employees. Having had previous experience as a buyer, it was believable that Steph would be looking to get back into a familiar field now that she was no longer bounty hunting, or so the story would go.

Steph would start the following Monday, putting in appearances at the store and distribution center, 'learning the ropes.' In the meantime she would have a crash course in product identification, purchasing practices, and learning how to spot the knockoffs of the high end merchandise. If she could spot where the knockoffs first showed up, the team would have a starting point for their investigation.

The next few weeks passed relatively uneventfully. During the day Steph went to Macy's and to the designers showrooms in New York and she thought that, maybe, she had found her true calling after all. She loved the investigation part of her job. She was chatty and friendly, and people just naturally gravitated to her, dropping little bits of gossip about who was doing what to whom, and who was cheating on their spouse, and more importantly, things like who had a gambling problem, and who was living above their means.

Evan Worth, the Head of Security for the store, had cozied up to Steph almost immediately. He was one of those touchy-feely people who invaded your personal space and asked questions that bordered on rude. He repeatedly asked Steph out to lunch or dinner, brought her coffee and showered her with compliments. Steph refused all of his invitations and when he pressed her for a reason, she pointed to the wedding ring on his finger. Still, he didn't back off.

When he started asking about Steph's financial situation, she decided to play along and gave him a sob story about being in over her head, what with her new condo and all. She also started wearing a wire so that their conversations could be recorded for evidence.

"So, being a bounty hunter, you must have been used to working in that grey area of the law, huh?" Evan asked one day. "Ever use a little too much force or anything like that?"

"Well, some skips like to give you a hard time. They can be real clumsy once you have them in cuffs, you know? They fall down stairs and run into walls." Steph replied with a nonchalant shrug.

"Bet that was really exciting!" Evan gushed.

Steph looked around to make sure that no one was listening, then leaned in and lowered her voice, "The exciting part was when I'd pick up a drug dealer who'd have money lying around." She winked at him conspiratorially. "Ten per cent of a bond isn't much for all the work and danger involved in the job. So the cash … it was like a bonus, if you know what I mean?" She gave Evan a knowing smile.

He mouth may have been smiling, but his eyes studied her and Steph realized that Evan Worth wasn't the buffoon that he apparently wanted everyone to think he was.

Steph was pretty sure that she had a suspect in Evan Worth. The team decided that it was time to test that theory, and Steph would let him think that she had warmed up to him. She made sure he overheard an argument with her 'boyfriend,' Hal, about bills, and a 'call' to her credit card company. Setting Worth up was surprisingly easy.

The end of the investigation was almost anticlimactic for the team. There was no hot pursuit, no guns drawn, and no takedown. Worth 'caught' Steph examining a knock-off handbag in the stock room. He asked her if she thought that it might be worth a 'bonus' to overlook that little detail, and the fish was reeled in. Videotape caught him handing Steph a cash filled envelope, promising her more where that came from.

All of the evidence was turned over to Eva Kalligas and to Macy's security department. Evan Worth was arrested and charged, and while it never made the newspapers, the team was able to chalk up another success. Steph was getting used to the lack of notoriety, to not having her photo on the front page, and just seeing her success reflected in her bank account.

On that Friday night, the team gathered at Steph's to celebrate her first foray in private investigation. Jeanne Ellen had brought a bottle of champagne to toast their success and it had just been poured when the doorbell rang.

Hal got up to answer it and was gone so long that Steph was about to go look for him. He came back into the room followed by Tank. To say that Steph was surprised was an understatement. She hadn't seen or even spoken to any of the guys since the night at Gennaro's Restaurant, and now, here was Tank, standing in the middle of her living room. He knew all the members of the team, and nodded to them.

"Tank!" she said with unconcealed surprise and pleasure in her voice. "Come on and join us, we're having a little celebration."

He shook his head. "Steph, I need to speak with you … privately," he said in a somber voice.

She watched him for a couple of seconds before she uncurled from the sofa and led him into the kitchen. He held a white envelope that he kept turning over and over in his hands.

Steph waited for him to tell her why he had come; obviously he wasn't happy about whatever it was, so she could only guess that it involved Ranger. She leaned back against the kitchen counter, sipping her champagne, waiting.

Tank looked down at the envelope and pursed his lips. Steph had never known him to be at a loss for words and a cold shiver of fear passed through her and she took a step toward him. "Tank? What is it? Did something happen to Lula? Is she alright?"

He held up his hand to stop her. "Lula's fine." Finally, he looked into her eyes. "Steph, I don't know how to tell you this. I know that we always agreed that if anything happened, that I would come and … but … I …"

She stood there, frozen, focused on the white rectangle that he held in his hand. She could feel her blood turn to ice in her veins and she couldn't seem to take a breath. She watched as her hand reached out to take the envelope from him. Staring down at it, she finally turned it over.

On the front of the heavy white vellum, written in Ranger's unmistakable hand:

_Stephanie Plum_

_To be opened in the event of my death._

She heard the crystal glass smash on the tile floor just before she slipped into the black pit that opened in front of her.

Ranger and Stephanie had been friends, lovers, and partners.

They had been apart exactly four months, two weeks, six days, eleven hours, and fifty-one minutes.

And now he was gone.

_**TBC …**_

Sooooo, what do you think? Where should Steph turn now? What do you think is in the envelope? The first person who gets it right will get a cameo part in the next chapter … so send me your guesses.

Thank you for all the wonderful comments and reviews, they've given Steph the strength to get through this tough time. Not buying that? Okay, I admit it! I'm a shameless review whore … what can I say? But I promise you, I good, bad, or ugly … I keep every single one. I still have every single one you guys sent for Worm! I treasure them. Don't forget to read and review Akasha's 'Living On A Prayer' … It's sensational!

**  
**


	14. Charades!

_**Disclaimer: Everyone belongs to Janet Evanovich except the ones that are mine, and I'm just playing.**_

_**Warnings: SMUT WARNING! All 12 books.**_

_**A/N: I'm arranging a ménage a trois for Karen … with Officer Hottie AND the Man In Black. She has certainly earned it! Thank you to all of you wonderful readers and reviewers. Please keep the reviews coming, Ranger and Steph and I love them … **_

_**The Name Of The Game!**_

_**By Stayce (XJerseyGirl)**_

_She stood there, frozen, focused on the white rectangle that he held in his hand. She could feel her blood turn to ice in her veins and she couldn't seem to take a breath. She watched as her hand reached out to take the envelope from him. Staring down at it, she finally turned it over._

_On the front of the heavy white vellum, written in Ranger's unmistakable hand: _

_Stephanie Plum_

_To be opened in the event of my death._

_She heard the crystal glass smash on the tile floor just before she was swallowed by the black pit that opened in front of her._

_**Chapter 14: Charades!**_

"Stephanie … open your eyes. Steph … look at me. Come on, Bombshell. Look at me." Tank's voice seemed so far away as it pulled her up through the darkness. He wiped her face gently with a cool cloth, and he glanced at group standing around them, "I think she's coming to."

Stephanie opened her eyes slowly and blinked a few times. She realized that she was lying on the couch in the living room, surrounded by a sea of concerned faces. She struggled to sit up, but Tank's hand on her shoulder held her down.

"Stay put, Bombshell. You've been out for awhile. The doctor's on his way." His voice sounded concerned as he studied her pale face.

She didn't bother to argue; she just lay back against the pillows that Jeanne Ellen had propped behind her. She was so cold that she shivered and Tank pulled a throw off the back of the couch and wrapped it securely around her. At some point someone, Hal she thought, pressed a cup of hot tea into her hands. She sipped at it, and even though it was hot enough to burn her mouth, she never felt it. Tank took the cup from her hands and put it on the table.

She ran her hands over her face and tried to clear her fuzzy brain. It took her a minute to figure out that she had fainted, and the reason came flooding back when she saw the white envelope on the coffee table. Ranger was dead.

The pain sliced through her and she couldn't breathe. She looked up into Tank's face, the question in her eyes. "Is it true?" Her words came out in a whisper.

Her raw pain was almost more than the big man could take and he looked away from her for a second, then just nodded. He appeared to be gathering himself together. Covering her icy hands with his own, his voice broke as he started to speak. "It happened very early this morning, Stephanie."

Stephanie sat silently, trying to process the information. How could Ranger have been gone all these hours and she not know it? She had always thought that if anything ever happened to him, she would know immediately, without anybody telling her. Suddenly there would have been this big empty hole in her life.

He had been such a huge part of her that even now, when they were apart, she was still always able to tell when he was near, still always able to feel his eyes on her. How could it be that she didn't sense that his enormous life force was gone? She fought her tears. She had been wrong about so many things about him. But she couldn't believe that she had been wrong about their connection.

She sat up slowly and took a deep breath. "What happened?" She couldn't look at him. She needed to know, but didn't want to hear the words, and fought the urge to cover her ears like a small child ... if you couldn't hear the words, then it couldn't be true.

Tank took a deep breath. "It was a plane crash, Steph." She could feel the tears stinging her eyes and was determined that she wasn't going to cry. She pulled her knees up to her chest and wrapped her arms around them.

The big man ran his hand over her hair, needing to touch her, to share the pain he was causing her. "Ranger and Tessa went to Miami last week. Yesterday they left there on a private chartered jet. Nobody knows what happened, but the plane disappeared from radar. Search teams were dispatched and found some wreckage."

"Did they … find …" she stumbled over the words.

"The plane went into the ocean, Steph. There was some debris, but ..." She put her head down on her knees and drew a shuddering breath. She had a flash of the plane falling from the night sky into the black water and she squeezed her eyes closed to banish the image. A sob bubbled up in her throat and she wanted to let herself cry, but the tears wouldn't come.

Steph sat still, staring down at the floor with unfocused eyes. She could feel herself shut down, everything seemed to slip away from her, and pretty soon she felt … nothing, no sorrow, no pain, no loss. She was blessedly numb, and she just sat, curled up on the couch, her arms wrapped so tightly around herself that it looked like she was holding herself together. She was. She was afraid that if she let go, she would fall to pieces like a broken mirror.

Tank and Steph's team were concerned. With everything she had been through, no one had ever seen her in this state before and it worried them. She didn't respond when Dean and Scott hugged and kissed her or when Hal spoke to her. One by one, Bobby, Lester, Cal and Ram had arrived. They were all standing in the living room, but Steph didn't seem to know that they were there.

Niko finally arrived and cleared the room of everyone except Jeanne Ellen. He spoke gently to Steph for several minutes and checked her over quickly and efficiently before she finally looked at him. She turned to him slowly and simply said, "Ranger's dead, Niko," in the same tone of voice she would have used to discuss the weather.

Niko looked at Jeanne Ellen and softly said, "She's in shock. Do you think that you can get her into bed? If you need help, call me. Once she's tucked in I want to give her a shot so that she'll sleep." He looked at the champagne glasses the stood on the coffee table. "How much did she have to drink?"

"Just a sip and then Tank showed up," Jeanne said as she got up and walked over to the couch. She took Steph by the hand and tugged on it gently. "Come on Steph, it's late, time to get ready for bed." Steph, moving like a robot, stood up and let Jeanne lead her out of the living room and to her bedroom.

Steph would have no memory of getting undressed or putting on pajamas. She wouldn't remember climbing into bed, or the shot that Niko put into her hip. In minutes she was floating away. She didn't register the Merry Men who came into the room, sat by her bed and spoke softly to her. She didn't hear Niko or Jeanne or Hal. She was in limbo, where if nothing could reach her, nothing could hurt her.

Stephanie didn't really know if she was awake or asleep, the medication that Niko had given her made her feel like she hovered somewhere in between the two. People and voices drifted in and out, she tried to catch hold of the words, but they were elusive and kept slipping away. Finally she slept, but her dreams were filled with nightmares, Ranger's voice telling her to move on, the plane crashing into the water, his cold eyes, his dead eyes. She thought she was crying, maybe she was only dreaming that she was crying, but she could hear herself sobbing.

She tried to wake herself. She fought the tentacles that wrapped around her and tried to drag her back down into those terrible visions. She was thrashing on the bed, kicking at the blankets that tangled around her. She felt him before she saw him, standing in the shadows on the far side of her bedroom, and she stilled. Like every dream she had of him, he stepped out of the darkness into a narrow shaft of moonlight and stood by the side of her bed, looking down at her.

In the last few months, every time she had seen him while she was awake, he had been cold and indifferent, had looked at her as if she were a stranger. But every time she had seen him in her dreams he was so different. His eyes were soft and warm and he smiled at her and called her 'Babe' and told her that he loved her. In her dreams they were always happy. He was the man she loved, the man who loved her. Now though, he seemed so sad, and he held his body as if he were in pain. In every dream, she held her arms out to him, but he never touched her. This time, though, this one time, he took her hands and threaded his fingers through hers. Sitting on the edge of the bed, he brought her hands to his lips, kissing them, his lips soft and warm on her skin.

She felt such calm as his fingers sifted through her hair, then trailed down her cheek to her lips. She struggled to keep her eyes opened, knowing that if she closed them, he would disappear… just like he always did. This time she fought to keep him with her. He bent closer to her in the dark and she heard him whisper, "Sleep, Babe. Go back to sleep."

"No … no," she whimpered. "Bad dreams, nightmares ..." She felt him take a ragged, shuddering breath, then she was gathered into his arms and lifted onto his lap. She could feel tears slip down her face as she settled her head against his shoulder, burying her face in his neck. Oh God, she had missed him so much … his feel, his smell, his strength and power. She sank into him, molding herself to his body.

"Just dreams, Babe," he whispered as he nuzzled her. "Only shadows, that's all."

"No! It wasn't," she moaned as she clutched him to her, her fingers curled into the soft fabric of the sweater that he wore, holding on to him so that he couldn't slip away. "You sent me away … you don't love me anymore." She sobbed against his neck.

She felt the groan in his chest as he held her, and the shudder that passed through his body.

"It hurt so bad … I didn't think I could stand it," she choked out. He wrapped his arms around her more tightly and gently rocked her, his face buried in her hair. "It was just a bad dream, all gone now, sleep, Love." His voice sounded so ragged, so filled with emotion.

His whispered words, "Sleep, Love, sleep," made all her tension slip away and she felt his warmth soaking into her. Her arms and legs grew heavy as her eyelids slipped shut, and for the first time in months, she was at peace. She sighed in contentment as he settled her against him, and there in the darkened room, she knew that she was safe in his arms and she slept.

She was being lifted and laid back on the bed, the covers drawn up over her. His lips were on her forehead, her cheeks, her chin, her mouth. "I love you, Babe." The whispered words she had waited to hear. Her hands reached out for him, drawing him closer and her mouth found his. "Show me," she whispered against his lips.

She could feel the effort it took for him to pull away from her; he swallowed hard before he could speak. "I have to go, Babe, you need to sleep."

"No, I need _you_ …"

It seemed he hesitated for only a second before his mouth crashed down on hers, possessing her, and she moaned at the sensations. His silken tongue stroked her into a frenzy of need and she was breathless even before his hands slid under the little pajama top to her breasts. She heard a groan escape him as he ran his fingers over her nipples and she felt them pebble almost painfully as he stroked and kneaded her breasts. He pushed the top up and she lifted her arms so that he could pull it over her head.

His arms encircled her and she arched her back and let her eyes drift shut as she felt his lips brush back and forth over her skin. He kissed along her jaw line and down her throat, tracing hypnotic circles with the tip of his tongue over her collarbones and the swell of her breasts. Her head fell back and she let out a long, low groan as he sucked her nipple into his mouth and she fisted her hands in his hair in an effort to hold him to her.

She was panting by the time he kissed his way to her other breast, torturing it also, and all control gone, she frantically clawed at him through the sweater he was wearing. She desperately needed his naked skin against hers and he broke away from her long enough to haul off the sweater and toss it aside. She ran her hands over his arms and back and chest, reveling in the feel of the satin skin that covered his muscles. Her hands found him and stroked him through his clothes, spurring him on.

He pulled back from her and their frantic hands dragged off remaining clothes, their mouths nipped and sucked and tasted, exploring … driving them both to the edge of reason. His mouth and hands were everywhere at once, and if this was a dream, she prayed she would never wake up. Her muscles quivered and every nerve ending was on fire as he whispered words of love and passion against her mouth and throat, her breasts and belly, her thighs and her core. She screamed his name as his long fingers and magic tongue brought an explosion of such exquisite pleasure that it arched her body off of the bed.

And then he was hovering over her, their bodies barely skimming and she was breathless with anticipation. His greedy mouth fused to hers and she writhed under him, moaning in need. The sensations washed over her, as lightening shot through her veins and lust coiled in her belly. She needed him buried in her so deeply that he touched the bottom of her heart. She lifted her hips and rocked her body against him, trapping his hard length between her legs. "Please, oh please … I need you …"

She smiled at his groan of pleasure as he settled between her thighs, then filled her in one sure stroke. They both stilled as they savored their connection. Hands fisted in her hair and she dragged open her tear-filled eyes to look up into his. She couldn't see his face in the dark, but didn't need to, to know that the expression in his eyes was the one she had seen so many times before. It spoke of love and lust, pride and affection and it made her heart want to burst in her chest.

"I love you," she breathed. He pulled almost all the way out of her, then slowly slid back in, and they both gasped in pleasure. "I love you, Babe," he whispered, as he pulled out of her again.

She felt his muscles quiver with the effort it took to move slowly but when she wrapped her long legs around him, sliding her foot down the back of his leg, he shuddered and she could feel his control snap. All ability to take their time gone, he slammed into her over and over. She met each stroke with equal passion and dug her nails into his back, her head thrashing from side to side. Each stroke brought her higher, tightening the coils of desire in her and when he reached between them and brushed her clit, she came sobbing his name. Her walls convulsed around him like a velvet glove, and seconds later he threw his head back and roared her name.

Strong arms wrapped around her trembling body and soft, sensuous lips covered her face and shoulders with warm, wet kisses. She clung to him as they lay in a tangle of arms and legs, in the afterglow of their lovemaking. Whispered words of love lulled her to sleep with him still buried inside of her.

She woke later, to him moving in her, their need for each other insatiable, and again later during that night to kisses on her neck and shoulders while gentle hands stroked and enflamed her. A hot mouth on her cool skin, her face, her neck, her breasts, lower still, sucking, nipping, tasting. Hands parted her thighs and played with her curls, silken hair drifted across her heated flesh. Her dream love made her sob in need and cry out in pleasure, in the dark.

He was holding her in the shower. The warm water streaming down her body and his hands slipping on her wet skin mesmerized her. Her hands braced on the tile, his hands on her breasts, her head tipped back on his shoulder as he filled her … "Oh God, Babe!" Pleasure bordering on pain. She was barely aware of being wrapped in a towel and gently dried off and then held in his arms under the covers.

She felt him slip out of bed, and fear gripped her heart. "Don't go!" she begged.

"I have to, Babe. I have no choice." His words were so final, so filled with pain.

"Take me with you, please don't leave me here…" she pleaded.

"I can't stay, Love, and you can't come with me. I'm not real; I'm only in your dreams." His voice was so sad.

"But I love you," she sobbed, reaching out for him.

"I know, I know … I love you, too. Sleep, I'll stay until you fall asleep." His lips brushed her forehead and eyelids, his fingers drifted up and down her arm, soothing her.

From far away she heard his voice, "I'll love you until my last breath, Babe," and his lips pressed against hers.

She slept spooned against his warm body, but came almost awake when he left the bed. "Please don't leave … stay with me," she begged him in her half sleep. His fingers tucked a curl behind her ear and she clutched at his hand.

"Don't worry, Sweetheart, I'll be right here." She relaxed and drifted off again.

She woke hours later to sunshine streaming through her bedroom windows. Her head pounded and her eyes were sore and swollen, her body ached and she felt sick. As bad as she felt, she lay there for the longest time, reliving her wonderful dreams from the night before. How sad that dreams really didn't come true, she thought. She crawled out of bed and went into the bathroom, washed her face and brushed her teeth, and pulled on her robe.

The scent of coffee lured her toward the kitchen and she silently thanked God that Hal was here to make it. Her head was throbbing and she felt like she was hung over. Aside from last night's all too vivid dream, she couldn't remember much of anything except the shocking news that Tank brought. She'd have to figure out what happened to all those missing hours.

She padded into the kitchen and stopped short. Hal was at the stove cooking something and next to him, leaning against the counter and sipping a cup of coffee, was a shirtless, barefooted Niko. He smiled at the sight of her, immediately put his coffee cup down and came over to her. Drawing her into his arms, he pulled her tightly against his chest, kissing her on the forehead, and then her cheeks, and finally a long slow kiss on her mouth, tongue and all. She pulled back in shock, staring at him. Her knees buckled when he said, "Morning Sweetheart. I hope I didn't wake you when I got out of bed?" She would have fallen on the floor if he hadn't been holding her so tightly.

Hal turned around and gave her a smile. "Whoa, you look like you need coffee, Steph. Sit down and I'll get it for you." He was acting as if what he was seeing and hearing was perfectly normal.

Stephanie extricated herself from Niko's arms and stumbled back a few steps, grabbing hold of the kitchen counter for support. She felt like she had stepped into the Twilight Zone and stared at him in unconcealed shock and surprise.

"When … when did you get here?" Her confusion was evident.

Niko looked at her, clearly concerned. He led her to the kitchen table and pulled out a chair for her. When she sat, he placed his fingers on her wrist and took her pulse. "I got here last night. How do you feel, Steph? Any headache, dizziness, confusion?"

"All of the above, I'm afraid, plus some." She rubbed her forehead and when Hal brought her coffee, she grabbed the cup and took a huge swallow.

Niko pulled out a chair and sat next to her. He leaned close to her, his elbows on his knees. "What do you remember about last night? Tell me everything you can think of."

Steph sat back in her chair, and closed her eyes. She took a deep breath and blew it out hard. "I invited the team over for a little celebration. Jeanne brought a bottle of champagne and we ordered Chinese. Hal just made a toast and the doorbell rang. We thought it was the food, but it turned out to be Tank. Um … we went into the kitchen, and … um … Ranger's plane …" She stopped and rubbed her temples.

She remembered hearing the champagne glass shatter when she dropped it in the kitchen … she remembered the glass smashing in their bathroom the night that this all started, too. At the time it struck her as so strange, Ranger wasn't clumsy … he didn't drop things or knock things over, he was graceful … cat-like. She was the klutz, always bumping into stuff, knocking them over, breaking them.

Everybody always worried about her getting hurt, getting broken, getting dead. But it wasn't her; it was the superhero who had fallen. Even after Scrog shot him, she had secretly believed that Ranger was immortal.

Niko touched her arm to bring her out of her thoughts and she jumped a little, startled at his touch. "I'm sorry … what were we … oh, I know …"

"Do you remember anything else?"

She thought a second and shook her head 'No'. "Just dreams."

"What did you dream, Sweetheart?" Niko's voice was soft, almost a whisper.

Steph glanced at Niko's handsome face. She wouldn't share her dreams with him, she couldn't, they were all she had left of her life with Ranger.

_Wait ... 'Sweetheart'…? He called her Sweetheart in the dream! Ranger had never called her Sweetheart. Oh my God,_ she thought_. Could the dreams have been real? I dreamed about making love with Ranger but could I really have had sex last night? Could I have had sex with Niko? _She felt her face flame and she quickly picked up her coffee cup, giving her something to do with her shaking hands.

She looked at Niko with panic written all over her face. "Excuse me, I … uh …" and she jumped up and all but ran into her bedroom and slammed the door.

She stood at the foot of her sleigh bed; her eyes squeezed shut as she gripped the foot board. A litany of Oh My God! Oh My God! raced through her head and her heart beat like a trip hammer. She felt like she needed to scream and throw up and run away all at the same time.

Rubbing her hands over her face, she opened her eyes and looked at her bed. In their bedroom at the penthouse, the right side of the bed, closest to the door, had always been Ranger's side. He slept there so that he would be between her and any intruder who might come through the door. From force of habit, Steph still slept on the left side of the bed.

Now she saw that right side of her bed was mussed up as well. The bed had clearly been slept in by two people. Both pillows had indentations in them and the covers had been thrown back on both sides of the bed. There was a man's shirt on the chair and shoes and socks on the floor. Keys and change and a money clip … a man's pocket debris lay on the night table. Niko's! Stephanie groaned. There was more and more evidence that it was Niko who had been in her bed.

Ranger had been a dream. Ranger was dead. Niko certainly wasn't. He was very much alive and had obviously been in bed with her.

A thought hit Stephanie and she ran into the bathroom and stripped off her pajamas. She had no memory of putting them on last night, not much memory of anything at all, really. She stood in front of the full length mirror and examined her body, looking for clues. She twisted and turned and looked at herself from every angle, and all she found were two tiny bruises, one on each hip, that were surprisingly sore. As closely as she looked, she found no sign that she had spent the night making love. There was no beard burn, no love bites, no bruises, no visual evidence of any kind.

Okay, she told herself, as she paced the bathroom, maybe Niko just came in and slept in the bed with her? Maybe he just held her and nothing happened? Maybe the dreams were just that … dreams? Maybe, maybe, maybe … So how would she go about finding out?

The kiss he gave her in the kitchen definitely wasn't a 'Hi Buddy' kind of greeting, and other than that one time in his car, they had never really kissed like that. So … if he didn't think that they had progressed to the next level, what the hell was that all about?

Steph groaned. _God! Ranger is gone and I mourned him by having sex with another man. How could I have done that? What does that say about what kind of person I am? _She had to know what happened last night, but_ how_ was she going to figure this out. She leaned against the wall and buried her face in her hands trying to fight back the tears.

She heard a knock at the bedroom door and quickly swiped at her tears and stuffed herself into her robe, tying it tightly around herself. Taking a deep breath and blowing it out, she collected herself and went to the door. Niko stood there, leaning against the door frame with his arms crossed over his bare chest. "Can I come in?" He pointed to his clothes and Steph stepped back and opened the door farther.

"Are you alright?" He took in her tear filled eyes and reached out to touch her cheek. Without meaning to, Steph took a step back, out of his reach.

"Oh, sure. I'm fine. Really. Considering …" _Yeah considering that a man I loved died last night and I'm standing in my bedroom watching you put your clothes back on. _She got flustered and lost her battle with maintaining eye contact. She found herself suddenly very interested in the belt on her robe and she watched as her fingers played with it, nervously picking at the seam. Niko slipped on his shoes and finished buttoning his shirt.

He reached over and took her hand. "Steph, you've been through an extremely traumatic experience and I made the whole situation worse for you. I owe you an apology."

Her eyes snapped up to his. _Oh my God! _She thought. _He's gonna apologize for sleeping with me._

Niko looked embarrassed. "Hal called me last night and when I got here you were really out of it. I gave you a sedative to make you sleep. I wanted to stay to monitor you but I got an emergency call from St. Francis and I had to leave." He collected his things and put them back into his pockets.

"I really don't remember any of that and I don't know why." She licked her dry lips and shrugged as she said it.

"Steph, you were in shock, it's no wonder you don't remember anything. Apparently you're very sensitive to the sedative I gave you. You were crying so hard that you soaked my shirt, Sweetheart. I held you until you fell asleep, but every time I moved you woke up, so I stayed."

"So nothing … happened … you know …" she pointed back and forth between them.

"Jesus, Steph! I would never take advantage of you like that! I thought you'd know that!"

"I do, it's just …" She covered her mouth with her hands but still, a sob escaped her. Thank God, she hadn't betrayed Ranger's memory after all. She didn't know if she was crying from sadness or relief.

"Look," Niko said, taking her by the arms and giving her a little shake. "You get cleaned up and get dressed, let Hal make you something to eat. I have afternoon rounds at St. Francis and then I'll be back and we'll drive down to the beach and go for a walk. What do you think about that?"

Steph wiped her hands across her face and nodded. Niko turned her and gave her a little push toward the bathroom while he walked to the bedroom door. "Thanks," she whispered. He smiled in response and left the room.

Niko waited outside the door until he heard the shower running, then went into the kitchen to talk to Hal. The other man studied him for a second, "You couldn't do it, could you?"

Niko shook his head. 'No," he said wearily. "I couldn't do that to her. I couldn't let her think that we …" He didn't need to continue.

"So what the hell are we gonna tell her when she starts asking questions? You figure that out, didja?" Hal practically sneered.

"I covered. She wants to believe it, so I'm pretty sure she won't ask questions." Niko ran his hands over his face.

"Yeah, well you wouldn't be in this position at all if you had just stayed away. If you had just done what Tank asked …" Hal's voice was edged with anger.

"I didn't want her left alone! She's been through enough because of all this bullshit!" Niko hissed back at him.

Hal glanced toward Steph's bedroom. "We told you that we were closing ranks around her. You should have trusted us to take care of her."

"Oh sure, trust you guys! Where the hell were all her _friends _these past couple of weeks? Other than you, where's everybody else been, huh? Tell me that!" Niko fired back.

"She's never been alone for a minute. Just because you don't see us doesn't mean we're not there! We know what we're doing!" They both shut up when they heard the shower stop running and Niko pushed off the kitchen counter and headed for the door. Hal followed to lock the door and reset the alarm.

Niko stopped and looked at Hal. "She's never going to forgive us, is she?"

Hal just shook his head sadly. "I'm hoping she never finds out."

Niko sighed. "The things we do for love."

Ranger and Stephanie had been friends and lovers and partners.

He had been gone one day, nine hours, and thirty-seven minutes.

_**TBC **__…_

_A/N: Okay … so what's going on? What are Niko and the Merry Men up to? Can Steph trust them? SHOULD she trust them? Next week we'll find out what's in that damned envelope. Spent 6 ½ hour in the Emergency Room with my husband, so this chapter is not as long as it should be. Sorry! Barring more RL problems, I'll make it up to you next week! If you haven't already, be sure you read and review Akasha's 'Living On A Prayer' … she just posted a fabulous, smut filled epilogue! And if you want a laugh, read and review Morelli'sBabe's, 'The Competition'! It's a hoot!_


	15. Hide and Seek!

_**Disclaimer: Everyone belongs to Janet Evanovich except the ones that are mine, and I'm just playing. Lisa and Robin are real live people.**_

_**Warnings: All 12 books.**_

_**A/N: My editor,Karen, needs to run away with Officer Hottie AND the Man In Black. She has certainly earned it! She is a Goddess! Thank you to all of you wonderful readers and reviewers. Please keep the reviews coming, Ranger and Steph and I love them … Lisa and Robin are featured in cameo roles. They both guessed what was in the letter!**_

_**The Name Of The Game!**_

_**By Stayce (XJerseyGirl)**_

_**Chapter 15:**_ _**Hide and Seek!**_

With a tip of his hat for the hefty gratuity they had given him, the doorman at the Ritz-Carlton helped the two sophisticated business women into the black Jaguar. He watched with a smile as they pulled away from the curb and into the heavy Philadelphia traffic. Jeanne Ellen and Stephanie retained their calm demeanor until they hit the first traffic light where they turned to each other, squealed like teenagers and exchanged high-fives

They were beyond thrilled that this meeting with a potential client had gone so well. Half way through it, they had decided that this would be the Team's next case. On a business basis, it could turn out to be their first really big money maker, the one that could establish their reputation in the industry, the one that could get them out of Steph's dining room and into a real office. But on a personal basis, it involved a missing child, and they all had a soft spot for anything that involved kids.

As word of their success and the discretion of their investigation practices had spread, they had a steady stream of business. They had worked for the usual clients who needed someone to collect evidence against cheating spouses, investigate accidents, locate witnesses, even find missing pets. Now though, The Team was in a position where they had to pick and choose which cases to take on, and this looked a little more challenging as it appeared to be a case of parental kidnapping.

Steph would start by doing some basic research to create a neutral background file for the Team to work from, and the search for Barton Thrasher's missing fifteen year old daughter, Zoë, would begin. Zoë was the product of Thrasher's failed second marriage. A very successful real estate investor, Thrasher was basically an absentee father who thought that any problem could be solved by throwing money at it. Zoë's mother, Sonya, had packed her bags and her settlement money and had disappeared never to be seen or heard from again, leaving her child to be raised by Thrasher's next wife and the household staff. Sonya had reappeared recently, demanding a huge sum of money from Thrasher, and threatening to sue him for custody of Zoë, whom she hadn't seen in twelve years.

Zoe was the classic poor little rich kid. She had everything that money could by, but was completely ignored by the people who should have cared about her the most. She was apparently starved for attention and thought that even negative attention was better than none at all. The Trenton PD, who had a file on her three inches thick for everything from shoplifting to MIP to evading police charges, considered her a runaway.

There had been no repercussions for Zoë. Her daddy just bought her way out of every situation, proving to her that that while money may not be able to buy happiness; it could buy you almost everything else. Never having faced any, Zoë never learned the meaning of the word 'consequences.' As a result, she got into an escalating scale of trouble.

Jeanne Ellen turned the corner and pulled up in front of Steph's townhouse. "You have company," she announced.

Steph looked up from the files she was reading out loud to Jeanne, and looked toward her house. Sitting on her front steps was Joe Morelli. Joe had been out of town on assignment for the past several weeks and Steph had missed the easy friendship that they had fallen into. She had to smile when she saw him. He was leaning back against the wrought iron railing, his long legs stretched out in front of him, ankles crossed. He obviously had collected her mail from the postman, because he was so engrossed in her Cosmo, that he didn't even notice that the car had stopped at the curb.

Steph and Jeanne traded eye rolls and Steph slipped the files into her bag and got out of the car. Joe glanced up and saw her, tossing the magazine onto the landing and came down the steps to wrap her in his arms. Dropping her bag on the ground, she stepped into his embrace and melted into him.

"Ahhhh, Cupcake, I'm sorry I wasn't here when you needed me." He hugged her to him and leaned his cheek on the top of her head.

Steph fought the urge to cry and she drew a shuddering breath to calm herself. It had been a very long couple of weeks since she had gotten the news that Ranger and Tessa had died in the plane crash. Tank had told her that, according to Ranger's wishes, there would be no funeral or memorial service, just a small piece in the papers. The announcement that RangeMan had changed hands followed several days later.

He tipped her chin up so that he could see her face. "You okay?"

She sighed, "Yeah, I'm fine. It's not like we were together or anything like that. It's just so hard to believe that he's really gone. He was so, you know … larger than life. It just doesn't seem right that something as ordinary as a plane crash …" She left the rest of the thought unspoken.

"Yeah, he kinda sucked all the air out of any room he was in, didn't he?"

Steph nodded her head, then changed the subject. "So, you coming in?" She looked up at him.

"Sure, I want to hear all about your private detectiving." He grinned down at her, taking in her suit and heels and briefcase. She looked like a successful career woman, a huge step up from the garbage-covered jeans and t-shirts of her bounty hunting days.

"Private investigating, you mean." She corrected and gave him a playful swat on the chest. Picking up her bag, she fished out the keys and passed them to Joe so he could unlock the door. Steph automatically punched in the code on the alarm system and Joe watched her with a shake of his head.

"Never thought I'd see the day they you'd actually take steps to protect yourself." He walked into her living room and tossed the mail on the coffee table.

"Don't you start with me, Morelli!" She stood toe to toe with him, hands on her hips. "If you're spoiling for a fight, I'm just the girl to give you one!" She raised her eyebrows and grinned at him.

Joe bent down and kissed the tip of her nose. "Nope, not me Cupcake! I'm real attached to all my body parts! Got any beer?" He tugged on a curl as he walked into the kitchen and she went into 'the office' in her dining room to start the searches on the Thrasher case.

Opening the fridge, he looked into it in surprise. "Hey," he called in to her, "you have real food in here. I don't think I ever saw you with more than peanut butter and olives and maybe some wilted stuff for Rex. This is scary! Who are you and what have you done with Stephanie Plum?" He took two Coronas out and shut the door with his hip. "Oh wait, I get it. Hal's still here, isn't he?"

He sauntered out into the dining room where Steph was staring intently at her computer monitor as she tapped away at her keyboard. He held out one of the bottles to her. She glanced at him quickly as she grabbed the bottle, stuck her tongue out at him and made a pissy face. "Smartass!" She said affectionately, "You know I always had ice cream, too. Peanut butter is protein, Ben & Jerry's is dairy, olives are vegetables, white bread is carbs … See? All the food groups … balanced diet." She took a long pull from the beer.

Joe laughed and shook his head, and then strolled into the living room, checking out all the framed photos that she had of her family, friends, him. He sat on the couch, positioned so he could see her at her desk. He leaned back, kicked his shoes off and but his feet up on the coffee table with a contented sigh. "You have a real nice place here, Cupcake." He looked around the living room appreciatively. "I think you did pretty well for yourself, you should be proud."

Steph snorted. "Yeah well, I had a lot of help and a lot of good advice. Christie found the place, my Dad advised me to buy it, Alexander Ramos helped me invest the reward money, the girls dragged me out shopping and my Mom and Val helped put everything together. I really didn't have a whole lot to do with it."

"Who picked out the TV and surround sound equipment?" He eyed the components with awe.

"Bobby and Lester did," she laughed. "They had a tough time learning restraint. The first one they picked out was the size of an IMAX screen. The remote's up on the mantle. I'll be finished with this in a couple of minutes."

Joe chuckled as he got up and walked over to retrieve the device. As he picked it up, a white envelope fluttered off the mantle and fell to the floor at his feet. He bent to pick it up and read the handwriting on the front.

_Stephanie Plum_

_To be opened in the event of my death._

He turned toward Steph, "Cupcake?" He held up the envelope.

He saw how pale she got when she focused on what he was holding and he immediately went over and squatted in front of her. "What is this, Steph? What's wrong?"

Her gaze never left the envelope, and she swallowed hard before she spoke. "Tank gave it to me the night …" Joe put his arm around her and rubbed her arm soothingly. She leaned her head against his shoulder. "I don't want to know what's in it," she whispered to him. "It can't be anything good and I keep hiding it from myself so I don't have to deal with it … but it keeps turning up and I don't want to open it."

Joe gave her a hug. "I can't believe that your curiosity didn't get the better of you, Steph. I know that you live in the land of denial … a lot, but this is ridiculous. It's been almost two weeks … you have GOT to face this and get past whatever it is." He held her for a minute or two. "Do you want me to open it for you? Would that help?"

Steph considered this for a few minutes. Joe could look at it and tell her if she should read it or not … but she had wrestled with this for two weeks. It would be so easy to let someone else handle it for her, it would be over and done with and the damned envelope would stop haunting her. _What if it was a personal message from Ranger, like his voice from the grave, _she thought melodramatically. The more she thought about it, the more she realized that she had to face this herself_. Time to pull up your big girl panties, Stephanie._ She told herself. _Time to face your fears_.

With shaking hands she took the envelope from Joe and tore it open. Taking a deep breath, she slid out the pages that were inside. Joe, still squatting in front of her, watched her face closely as she unfolded the first sheet of paper. Glancing at it, he could tell was that it was a letter of some kind, printed on business letterhead. She read it carefully, once, and then a second time before turning and looking at Joe with a look of confusion and amazement on her face.

She handed it to him, and he looked it over quickly. "It's a letter from his lawyer, Steph, it looks like you were named the beneficiary of an insurance policy that Ranger took out when you two first got together. It's got an accidental death clause in it, so the value is a million dollars.

Stephanie stared at him like he was speaking a foreign language. Joe tried again. "Cupcake, you're gonna get $1,000,000." He gave her a weak smile. "You're rich, Steph."

"No … oh no, no, no, no! That was more than a year ago, everything's changed since then. I'm not supposed to get this … Hell, I don't even want it! It should go to Julie or his Mom and Dad. He wouldn't want me to have this now. He did this when he loved me, when he cared about …" Her voice kind of died off and she drew a ragged breath. "I can't take this, I won't. It's … blood money." The determination in her voice was clear.

Glancing down, she realized that the second sheet of paper was still in her lap and she slowly unfolded it. Ranger's handwriting leaped out at her and she looked away, passing her hand over her eyes to clear her vision. It took a minute before she could look down at the page, but when she did, she couldn't tear her eyes away.

Her eyes widened as they flew over the lines and she jumped out of her chair so quickly, that she knocked Joe on his ass. "The son of a bitch!" she muttered as she read. "That rat bastard! That … that … You motherfucker!" Steph yelled as she crumpled the sheet of paper and threw it on the floor. With an "Aaaggghhh!" she picked up her empty beer bottle, fired it across the room and smashed it against the exposed brick wall of the dining room.

Joe didn't bother to get up; he just reached over and retrieved the letter, all the while keeping an eye on Stephanie. She was ranting and huffing and pacing and so irate that tears of anger slid down her cheeks. He smoothed out the wrinkles in the paper and read the message that Ranger had left her. _Holy shit_, he thought_. It's a damn good thing the man is dead because if he was still alive, Stephanie would kick his ass and then kill him dead!_

He put the letter on her desk before he clambered to his feet and stepped in front of Steph, trapping her in place by wrapping his arms around her furious form. She turned on him, "Let me go, Morelli! I need to break something or hurt something and I don't want it to be you!" She struggled to get away from him.

He tightened his grip slightly. "It won't make you feel any better, you know." He decided to try to be the voice of reason, but he shuddered when she glared at him.

"Wanna bet?" He held onto her until he could feel the anger subside a little. "Did you read that?" She nodded toward the letter. "A mutually beneficial sexual relationship? No expectation of a shared future? He said that he provided me with food, lodging, clothing, transportation, employment, and gifts in exchange for mental, physical, and sexual companionship? I sound like a kept woman!" Her arms fell to her sides and she leaned her forehead against Joe's chest.

"And then he finishes this 'love letter' with a threat. If I contest his will, demand a share of his estate, OR refuse to claim the life insurance, his lawyers will forward all evidence of my illegal activities to the Trenton Times. What illegal activity? Me carrying concealed? Puhleease, every cop in Trenton knows I carry concealed." Morelli grimaced. "But something like that could ruin the reputation of the new business. I can't do that to the team."

She sagged against him. "How could he think that I'd want his money? How could he not know me at all, Joe?" Joe just hugged her to him and thought that maybe, just maybe, Manoso knew her too well. He knew that she'd never accept the money, now he fixed it so she had to. Manoso was a smart man.

A small noise made him turn and Joe found Hal standing in the living room looking at the smashed beer bottle lying on the dining room floor. Hal raised his eyes to glare at Morelli, silently accusing him of upsetting Stephanie. Morelli indicated the letter on the desk with a small tip of his head in that direction and Hal came into the room to pick it up. His reaction to its contents was written all over his face and he came over to Steph and laid one large hand on her shoulder and planted a kiss on her temple.

She turned to embrace him. "It sure is a mess, isn't it, Hal?" she sighed, eyeing the broken glass on the floor.

Hal and Joe exchanged a look over her head. "It sure is, Steph. It sure is." Hal said softly. Hal and Joe both knew they weren't talking about the broken beer bottle.

"I'll take care of it," Joe offered and rooted around in the kitchen until he found a dust pan and brush and swept up the broken glass. By the time he finished, Steph was back at her desk, checking on her research runs, Hal leaning over her shoulder.

"I don't suppose I could interest you in grabbing some dinner, could I?" Joe already knew the answer, but asked anyway.

"Will you take a rain check? I really don't have much of an appetite." Steph looked up at him and he could see how tapped out she looked. He put his arm around her shoulder as she walked him to the door.

"You have a date, Cupcake. I'll pick you up at 7." He bent down and brushed a kiss across her lips and she smiled back at him, then wrapped her arms around him and gave him a hug.

"Thanks, Joe. I'll see you." It really was good to have a friend, she thought.

The searches finished and printed out, Steph stood in the shower and let the hot water pound onto her back, working the tension out of her muscles. As well as the meeting with Thrasher had gone, as complete as the files he had given them from previous investigators, as open and shut as this case seemed to be, Steph's spidey-sense was tingling. There was something missing and she didn't know what it was, something she was overlooking, something important.

Add the insurance policy … a million dollars! She thought about all the things she could do with that. An office for the team, education funds for her nieces, a secure retirement for her parents, a singles cruise for Grandma Mazur. Invested wisely, she'd never really have to worry about being broke again. Based on Ranger's letter, it was payment for services rendered, for her mental, physical, and sexual companionship. But if she took it, what would that make her? A smart and savvy kept woman? If she turned it down, would that make her a highly principled idiot?

She didn't know whether to laugh or cry! On top of it all she was PMSing big time. Her period was late and she was feeling snarky. If you're not going to fly, you don't need a parachute, so a couple of months ago she had stopped taking the pill. Ever since, her body was having trouble finding a natural cycle. Her period was early, it was late, it stopped, it started... She really wasn't worried, after all, the fantastic part about dream sex was you couldn't get pregnant from it, now could you?

Stephanie spent another night, tossing and turning, unable to chase away her thoughts. She got out of bed with the same dull headache that she had taken to bed with her. Even Hal's gourmet breakfast didn't help, but the two Advil he made her take finally did the trick.

The team meeting went smoothly and they formed a plan of action. Steph's research had uncovered very little new information on Barton Thrasher himself, but she had turned up a mountain of info on his ex-wives. All five of them. Sonya, the missing mother, was a Russian mail-order bride that Barton had met through a New York based matchmaking agency. Over the course of her marriage to Thrasher, she had managed to bring most of her family to America and settle them in the large Russian community in Coney Island, New York. It made sense that if Sonya was in hiding, she's be hiding with her family. The Team had a place to start looking for Sonya Thrasher.

They decided that Jeanne Ellen and Dean would check out the matchmaking agency as well as the Russian community, showing Zoë's picture around to see if anyone recognized her. Steph would hit the Trenton PD for information on Zoë. She would see if the detective who was heading the investigation would share any information about Zoë or her mother. Scott would check with the NYPD, Hal drew the short straw and had to man the phones, calling Zoë's friends and classmates to see if they would part with any information.

Steph went into the kitchen to get another cup of coffee and turned to find Jeanne Ellen leaning against the counter, eyeing her appraisingly. "What's going on Stephanie? You're mind isn't on the case and you seem to be wound as tight as a spring. I think that coffee is probably the last thing you need right now."

Steph looked down at her shaking hands, holding the coffee cup. "You're right," she sighed as she dumped the coffee into the sink. She walked back to her desk and picked up the envelope with the letters in it and handed it to Jeanne Ellen.

Jeanne quickly read them both, and gave Steph a sympathetic look. "Well, no wonder you're stressed. Are you going to speak with this lawyer?"

Steph nodded a reply. "I have no choice. If I don't claim the money, he gets in touch with the papers. I can't take the chance that there would be a backlash that would ruin everything we worked so hard to build."

"If I can help, let me know, okay? In the meantime what are you doing about the stress? You're already distracted; it's not going to get better by itself."

"Jeanne, I'm not cool and calm like you are, always in control of yourself and the situation. I'm a 'go with the flow' kind of girl."

"Yeah, and right now that flow is drowning you. Go put on some loose, comfortable clothes. I'm taking you to my class at the Women's Center."

"Uh … no thanks, Jeanne. I already work out and shoot the shit out of paper men; I used to run … I don't think …"

Forty-five minutes later, Jeanne Ellen walked Stephanie into the Princeton Women's Center and Spa, like a prisoner to the death chamber. At the registration desk, Jeanne introduced Steph to a tall, slim redhead, Lisa, the owner/manager of the Center. Lisa had the kind of body that every woman wanted, but few achieved, and was the perfect advertisement for the Center. She welcomed Steph with a warm smile while Jeanne signed them in.

"Yoga? We're taking a yoga class? Jeanne! I can't twist myself like a pretzel and stand on one foot while the other leg is wrapped around my head. As many accidents and mishaps as I've had, I really don't believe in inflicting pain upon myself on purpose. I don't think …"

An hour later, as they walked out of the class, Jeanne turned to Steph, "Okay, so you were right about that one. Yoga isn't for you. You're actually twitching!"

Steph rolled her eyes. "This calm balance of the mind and body, creating your own little world, just doesn't work for me. I need to be able to be able to fall on my ass and yell 'Oh shit!' without everybody glaring at me!"

Jeanne chuckled. "Yeah, I thought you were gonna get us thrown out!"

Robin, one of the instructors at the Center was standing at the desk with Lisa. Both women laughed when they heard the conversation, and Robin approached them. Steph noticed that she moved with the natural grace of a dancer and the confidence of a woman who knew that she looked good, very good. "Sorry to eavesdrop, but what are you looking for? Aerobics, strength training, cardio?"

"Stress relief," they said in unison. "And yoga is not an option!" Steph added.

Robin grinned at Steph and said, "Got any anger issues?" Jeanne Ellen snorted and Steph narrowed her eyes at her. "Ooookay," Robin replied, "how about something like Tae Bo, cardio kick-boxing?"

A slow smile spread over Steph's face. She had seen advertisements for the instruction videos on TV. While the thought of kicking the crap out of someone really appealed to her, doing it in the privacy of your own home seemed to defeat the purpose. "We really don't kick each other," Lisa said with a laugh. "But it sure does work off the anger and stress. I always visualize the person I'm mad at when I'm kicking that heavy bag. Very satisfying."

And with that, Steph and Jeanne Ellen signed up for the class that was starting the following week. Jeanne dropped Steph off at home and as she walked up her front steps, she had the sudden feeling that she was being watched … again. There were no cars on the street, not like last time when she and Jeanne had chased the Lexus, nobody in the park, at least not that she could see. She scanned windows and roof tops, still nothing. She couldn't shrug off the uneasy feeling, nothing new these days, just one more thing to add to the stress. She ran up the steps and into the house.

Hal was sitting at Steph's desk, having worked the phones on the Thrasher case all morning. "Hey Steph, I pulled a few strings and had the LUDs on Zoë Thrasher's cell phone dumped. There are eleven calls from the same pre-paid cell phone over the ten days before she disappeared. There's no way to find out who bought that phone."

Steph thought for a minute. "Do you think we should see if Randy Briggs can figure out where the calls originated? He can do all the cell tower triangulation and stuff. It might give us a lead."

"Good idea. You want to ask him or should I? On second thought, maybe you should talk to him, Steph, I think I intimidate him." Hal said innocently.

Steph laughed, "Oh Holy Hell, Hal, you'd intimidate Godzilla! Why don't you just call him?"

Hal smiled and picked up the phone to make the call. Steph just shook her head and went to get showered and changed. She needed to get to the police station to talk with Det. Tony Luciano, who was in charge of Missing Persons for the TPD. She needed to find out why the cops were treating Zoë like a run away, not putting any time or effort into finding her.

It was drizzling when Steph pulled the Expedition in the secured police parking lot. By the time anyone figured out that it didn't belong there, she'd be long gone. If she parked on the street, she'd be soaked by the time she made it into the building, so she just bent the rules a little. She hopped out and ran across the lot, flying through the back door as the drizzle turned to a downpour.

As she shot through the door, she immediately slipped on the wet floor. A hand reached out and steadied her, preventing her from falling on her butt. An arm snaked around her waist, drawing her back against a broad chest. When she looked up to say thank you, she found herself looking into Joe's smiling face. "Hey Cupcake," he said as he put his other arm around her, "you falling for me again?"

"Cute, Morelli! Nice play on words. Thanks for the catch." Two could play at word games. "I'm here to see Tony Luciano. I'm hoping to get some information on a missing person case."

Joe shook his head. "Not from him you won't! He's new here, a real 'by-the-book' hard ass. Plays every thing close to the vest and doesn't even share with other divisions. I don't think that even your big blue eyes would have any effect on him."

"Well, I'm already here and I've got nothing to lose; it's still worth a try. Walk with me?" She headed down to the Missing Persons Office and Joe fell into step beside her.

He leaned against the wall outside the office while Steph tried to wheedle her way past Luciano's defenses. It was only a few minutes later that she was standing in front of Joe, hands on hips, clearly miffed. Joe smiled at her. "Hate to say it Cupcake, but I told you so." He patted her shoulder and she gave him a death glare.

They strolled down the hall toward the back door and Steph glanced back at Luciano's office. "You trust him, Joe?"

"As a cop, yeah. As a man, don't know him well enough yet. Why?" He looked at her curiously.

"Just wondering, that's all." What Steph didn't tell him was that Luciano had willingly given her a copy of the TPD file on Zoë Thrasher, but wouldn't answer her questions. That was strange behavior for the hard-nosed cop that Joe described. She was sure that Luciano was up to something, but what?

"So you up for some pizza? I know it's early, but I missed breakfast _and_ lunch today and I'm starving. I really don't want to eat alone." He gave her the sad puppy dog eyes and threw in a fake whimper for good measure.

"Oh you are such a dope," she said with a laugh and a shake of her head. "You're on Morelli, I'll meet you at Pino's and the pizza's on me tonight."

"Never let it be said that you don't know that the way to a man's heart is through his wallet, Cupcake! I'll meet you in the parking lot." He bent to give her a chaste kiss on the lips and they ran through the rain to their cars.

The waitress delivered the pitcher of beer and the glasses to the table and Joe poured them each a glass. 'So. You gonna tell me about the missing person case you're working?" He watched her reaction over the rim of his glass as he took a drink.

Steph stopped, the glass half way to her lips, and laughed. "Sure Joe, just like you always told me about your cases."

"Oh come on, you know I couldn't discuss them," he said defensively.

Steph rolled her eyes. "Yeah, but you'd pump me for information and never return the favor."

"Not true and I'm deeply offended," he said in mock indignation. "When your mother ran over the rabbit, didn't I make it all go away? Doesn't that qualify as a favor?"

"Well I suppose, but I'm not sure for who! Can you imagine that jail with my mother in it? She'd want to put up curtains and iron those lovely orange jumpsuits." They both laughed at the thought.

"Maybe I could get your Mom to come over and put up curtains in my house. My mother refuses to do it. Says that's what a wife's for." He hesitated a minute. "I remember a time when you wanted to hang curtains in my kitchen." He waggled his eyebrows at her.

"It wasn't curtains, it was a cookie jar. You needed a cookie jar to make the place homey … and for me to keep my gun in."

"Like Rockford!" they both said at once and laughed.

Stephanie looked out the window for a minute, remembering another conversation about cookie jars and Rockford that she had had with another man. Taking a deep breath, she buried the memory and turned back to Joe with a smile.

"So how come you didn't get breakfast or lunch, you left my place early, you get called in?" She asked, changing the subject.

"Yeah, there's a new gang trying to move in, nasty bunch that make the Slayers look like a bunch of nuns. There are gonna be a lot of turf wars before the dust settles. The Homicide and Gang Divisions at the department are gonna be hopping. And now we're all gonna have to learn Russian as well." The waitress brought their pizza, and they dug into it. Steph made a mental note to continue the conversation later on, to find out just what Joe meant by 'having to learn Russian.'

They spent a couple of hours at Pino's, talking to friends and just visiting. They both were enjoying their friendship and were reluctant to end the evening. "Hey, wanna come see Bob? He misses you." Joe asked.

Steph narrowed her eyes at him. "And just which 'Bob' would we be talking about, Morelli?"

Joe let out a belly laugh. "The four-footed, orange one … I promise."

"In that case, okay. I'm gonna stop in the ladies' room and then I'll be over."

When she pulled up in front of Morelli's house, he was outside with Bob on his leash. When Bob saw Steph get out of her vehicle, he bolted toward her so hard that he almost pulled Joe off his feet, actually dragging him down the sidewalk. "I told you he missed you!"

Steph lavished attention on the shaggy creature that was running circles around her, barking and yelping. She opened the bag she was carrying and fed Bob the meatball sub she had brought him. He wolfed it down in two bites and looked like he would have patted his belly if he had been able.

Steph took the leash and the three started to walk slowly through the neighborhood. It was dark now and the rain had stopped, leaving the Burg smelling fresh and clean. A breeze had blown the clouds away and the clear night sky filled with stars. Lightening bugs flashed and crickets chirped, a perfect summer evening. Joe reached over and took her hand, and they walked in the comfortable silence that only friends can share.

They turned the corner on their way back to Joe's house and Steph shaded her eyes with her hand when the high-beams of an idling car blinded her. Joe stopped walking, his attention on the car that suddenly squealed down the street toward them. In an instant he turned toward her and put his hands against her chest, shoving her backwards through the high hedges they stood in front of. She was propelled through the shrubs and hit the ground … hard. The hedges caught in her hair and scraped her face and arms bloody. Bob went nuts on the other side of the shrubbery, and over his barking and howling, Steph heard two soft pops and the car peel away and turn a corner.

"What the hell, Morelli! Are you out of your fucking mind? Steph yelled as she climbed to her feet. She had to let go of the leash to climb out of the yard and onto the path that led to the sidewalk. She was pulling twigs and leaves out of her hair and brushing off her clothes. "What the hell was that for anyway? I think you finally lost your min …"

Stephanie froze. Bob was standing over Joe, who was laying face-down on the sidewalk, his gun in his hand, a pool of blood spreading beneath his head.

Stephanie and Ranger had been friends and lovers and partners.

Ranger had been gone two weeks, four days, seventeen hours, and fifty-three minutes.

_**TBC …**_

_LUDs … Local Usage Details or phone records_

_MIP … Minor In Possession (of alcohol)_

_Now that they're finally good friends, do you think that Steph is going to lose the other important man in her life too? And what's with her being late? What do you think of Ranger's letter? So many questions!_

_Thanks for all the wonderful reviews. Please keep 'em coming. Steph reads them as she soaks in her tub with her shower massage. _

_Only a few more chapters until we all find out what's going on …_


	16. Operation!

_**Disclaimer: Everyone belongs to Janet Evanovich except the ones that are mine, and I'm just playing.**_

_**Warnings: All 12 books.**_

_**A/N: Karen, I adore you! Thank you for putting up with my Last Minute, Lulu routines! **_

_**Thank you to all of you wonderful readers and reviewers. Please keep the reviews coming, Ranger and Steph and the whole crowd read them over Hal's gourmet breakfasts. **_

_**Akasha has started a new story, "Keep The Faith" … you don't want to miss it! Read and review it please, you'll be glad you did!**_

_**The Name Of The Game!**_

_**By Stayce (XJerseyGirl)**_

_They turned the corner on their way back to Joe's house and Steph shaded her eyes with her hand when the high-beams of an idling car blinded her. Joe stopped walking, his attention on the car that suddenly squealed down the street toward them. In an instant he turned toward her and put his hands against her chest, shoving her backwards through the high hedges they stood in front of. She was propelled through the shrubs and hit the ground … hard. The hedge caught in her hair and scraped her face and arms bloody. Bob went nuts on the other side of the shrubbery, and over his barking and howling, Steph heard two soft pops and the car peel away and turn a corner. _

"_What the hell, Morelli! Are you out of your fucking mind? Steph yelled as she climbed to her feet. She had to let go of the leash to climb out of the yard and onto the path that led to the sidewalk. She was pulling twigs and leaves out of her hair and brushing off her clothes. "What the hell was that for anyway? I think you finally lost your min …"_

_Stephanie froze. Bob was standing over Joe, who laid face-down on the sidewalk, a pool of blood spreading beneath his head._

_**Chapter 15: Operation! **_

The ambulance ride to the hospital was surreal, like something out of a movie to Steph. The rig sped through the Burg to the hospital, surrounded by police cars and motorcycle cops. The flashing red and blue lights reflected in the rain slick streets, the shrieking sirens splitting the quiet of the night. Steph held on tight to Joe, her heart in her throat, her mind unable to wrap around what had happened. She was caught in an unending litany of 'Please God let him open his eyes, please God let him wake up, please God let him speak to me, please God let him live …'

Stephanie stood just outside of the curtained cubicle at Saint Francis Hospital, observing the organized chaos that was an emergency room. The bright lights, the rushing people, the sounds and the smells were almost overwhelming. She watched the doctors and nurses who worked on Joe, their tense, hushed voices adding to her panic.

She had been allowed to ride in the ambulance with him, only because she was covered in blood as well. She had held his hand and had spoken to him softly even though he had been unconscious. Now though, she had to let go of him and stand out of the way and let others try to help him.

Joe was still unconscious when they wheeled him into the emergency room and she watched as they cut the clothes off his limp body, covering him with a sheet. One nurse stuck a needle into his arm and the tubing snaked to a bag of fluid that hung on a hook over the gurney. Another hooked him up to heart and oxygen monitors and the little cubicle was filled with the steady, reassuring beep that mimicked his heart rate. Steph became mesmerized by the red line, tracing the little mountains of his heart beat as it crossed the screen. The blood pressure cuff on his arm expanded, adding another blessed noise … each one saying that Joe was alive. An oxygen canula was placed in his nose, but at least he was breathing on his own.

A doctor removed the bloody bandage that the EMTs had wrapped around Joe's head, dropping it on the floor, before carefully examining the wound. He lifted Joe's eyelids and shined a light into his eyes, called Joe's name, and finally rubbed his knuckles against Joe's chest, making him groan.

A couple of times a nurse had tried to take her into another cubicle to clean her up, but Steph refused to move from the foot of the gurney Joe was lying on. Her shirt had little tears in it and her arms and face were covered with the bloody scratches from the hedge Joe had pushed her through, but she was oblivious to it. All she knew was the fear that if she took her eyes off of him, Joe would disappear, too.

A hand touched her arm and she jumped at the contact. Eddie Gazarra stood next to her and he slipped his arm around her waist. "You okay, Steph?" He took in her pale face and the cuts and scrapes.

She looked up at him with tear filled eyes and shook her head 'no.' She couldn't lose Joe too; she'd never be alright again. She took a breath and opened her mouth to say so, but all that came out was a strangled sob. Eddie pulled her into his arms, her head against his shoulder and just held her tightly.

Steph could feel the bulletproof vest under Eddie's perfectly starched and pressed uniform shirt. Even if Joe had been wearing one, it wouldn't have helped, she thought. There was nothing that could have protected him. Joe was lying right here in front of her with a bullet in his head. "He knew what was going to happen, Eddie," she looked up into Eddie's face. "He saved me, he saved my life."

"I know, Sweetheart. Joe's a cop and a good cop is always on duty." He smiled down at her. "He's a tough guy; we just have to believe that he'll be okay." She leaned her head back onto his shoulder.

The phone in the cubicle rang. They would be taking Joe for a CAT scan. Quickly, they removed the monitor contacts and raised the side bars on the gurney, wheeling him out of the cubicle and down the hall as fast as everyone could move. Steph started to follow but the ER doctor stopped her.

"You can't go with him, Steph. You're covered in blood and need to be cleaned up. We can't let you walk around the hospital like that. You'd just be sitting in a waiting room anyway. Why don't you let us take care of you and then we'll take you to him? Is that alright?" He knew Stephanie Plum very well, having treated the Bombshell Bounty Hunter here in the ER more times than he could count.

Steph looked at Eddie. "Will you go with him? I don't want him to be alone," she pleaded.

"Sure thing, Steph, but are _you_ gonna be okay here alone?" Eddies voice was laced with concern.

"She won't be alone," a voice interjected, as Niko Ramos walked up to them. "I'll take care of her," and he took her hand and led her into another cubicle while Eddie went with Joe.

"What are you doing here?" She seemed a little surprised to see him.

He picked her up and laid her on the gurney. "I work here, Steph, remember?"

She mumbled, "Oh, right," and tried to look past him, down the hall where Joe and Eddie had disappeared.

Niko snapped on rubber gloves and started cleaning the blood off Steph's face with gauze pads. A nurse came in and worked on Steph's hands and arms. He had Steph tell him what had happened as he worked on her, asking her simple questions. He recognized that she was in shock, and tried to refocus her attention. "Okay Steph, there's only one place that needs stitches. It's right here in your hairline," he touched the spot. "I'm going to have the nurse shave about a six inch square right here."

Steph nodded absently, "Okay, whatever you say …" Ten seconds later she sat bolt upright. "What? Oh no … no shaving my head! No how, no way!" She covered the side of her head with her hand and glared at him.

Niko looked at the nurse and they exchanged smiles. "There's my girl. I knew I could get a rise out of you. Don't worry, no stitches necessary. I'm just going to put a butterfly on a couple of these deeper cuts. I don't think there'll be any scarring."

Niko and the nurse worked quickly and efficiently, gently applying antibiotic ointment and bandages where needed and in a few minutes, she was ready to go. The nurse brought Steph a set of surgical scrubs to wear since her jeans and t-shirt were torn and bloody. She went into a restroom to wash up a little and change, tossing her clothes into the trash. Niko signed her out of the ER and took her to the CAT scan department, leaving her in the waiting room, while he went in to find out if they had any information on Joe's condition yet.

Steph stood in the doorway of the waiting room and looked around. Eddie, Carl and Big Dog, Joe's lieutenant, Andy Rhinehardt, the Chief, Mike Rimbolli, and an ocean of blue uniforms, all there in quiet support. Sitting on the other side of the room, glaring at Steph, were Angie Morelli and Grandma Bella with Father DiAngelo sitting next to them. With a stab of pain, Steph realized that the priest was there in case Joe needed Last Rites.

Angie looked away from Stephanie, clearly angry, blaming her for Joe being shot. Grandma Bella, her rheumy eyes never leaving Steph's, pressing the index and middle fingers of her right hand together, she raised them to her lips and made a spitting motion against them. A curse!

Every eye in the room that had been on Grandma Bella, now turned to see Stephanie's reaction. She stood up strait, shoulders back, and met Bella's stare with one of her own. Steph raised her own right hand to her chest, curling her thumb, her ring and middle fingers into her palm, leaving her pinkie and index fingers extended in the 'horn,' the counter to the curse. She pointed the tips of her fingers at Bella, sending the curse back to her.

Bella stiffened and turned away. The priest spoke sharply to Bella in Italian, obviously scolding her for calling on the dark powers. Steph gave her a small tight smile, even though her heart was beating out of her chest. It was well known that Bella's powers were very real. No one who knew Bella would ever doubt that she was in league with the devil.

Chief Rimbolli, seeing the exchange, stepped between them and walked over to Steph, enfolding her in a bear hug. "Hey Cutie Pie, let's get you out of here." Over her protests, he ushered her out into the hall.

"I can't leave Uncle Mike; I need to stay with Joe." She struggled to get loose.

"We aren't leaving, Steph, we're going in the back door. Come on." He put his arm around her shoulders and took her down the hall and through a door that lead into the CAT scan department. Unfortunately the Chief, having been here too many times with too many other officers, knew all of the short cuts and back doors in the hospital. Doctor Carver from the ER, Niko and the CAT scan technician were standing with their heads together.

Doctor Carver shoved his glasses up on top of his bald head and rubbed his hands over his face as he turned toward the Chief and Steph. He took a deep breath, and blew it out before he looked up at them. "I don't know how it happened," he said with a small smile. "I can only think it's because he has one hell of a hard head, but the bullet didn't penetrate his skull." He shook his head, "I see so many horrific things. It's nice to see a miracle."

Steph sagged against the Chief and he hugged her, dropping a kiss on the top of her head. Niko came over and taking Steph by the hand, led her in to see Joe while Dr. Carver and the Chief went to speak to Mrs. Morelli and Joe's friends. Steph walked through the door and as if on cue, Joe groaned and started to move. Niko rolled over a stool for her and Steph sat at Joe's side, her elbows propped on the gurney, holding his hand to her face. When Joe finally opened his eyes, the first thing he saw was Steph.

He blinked several times, and looked like he was having a tough time focusing on her or even keeping his eyes opened, but he gave her a lopsided grin. "Hey Cupcake! How ya doin'? You look like shit, what happened to you?"

She smiled at him, tearfully. "I'm fine, now. How do you feel?" She gently stroked his cheek.

He seemed to think a minute, "I feel like I've been kicked in the head. I don't remember what happened. Why are we at the hospital?" He seemed to be searching his memory and Steph looked to Niko, fear written all over her face.

"The memory loss is perfectly normal, he may never remember exactly what happened, or it might come back with no problem. He's a little disoriented right now, but he recognizes you and knows where he is. There's nothing to worry about at this point. " The nurse motioned him over. "I'll be back in a minute."

"I remember the … car," Joe muttered. "Came down … the street … fast …" and he drifted off again.

Niko came back and leaned down to speak softly to her. "I have to go scrub now. We're taking Joe up to surgery to remove the bullet. It's a minor procedure, and then he'll be taken to a room for observation. He has a mild concussion so we just want to watch him for the next 24 hours or so to make sure there are no problems."

Eddie came to take her out the back door. Since she and Joe were to only witnesses to the incident, detectives were waiting to interview her. She couldn't very well sit in the surgical waiting room with Joe's mother and grandmother, so this was as good a time as any to speak to the cops.

She was taken downstairs to an empty office and introduced to two detectives that she had never seen before. They both pulled out pens and little notebooks and took furious notes as she talked. She went over the details for them, starting with running into Joe at the station, speaking with Detective Luciano about Zoë Thrasher, dinner at Pino's and the people they had spoken with there. She told them about the drive to Joe's house, walking with Bob, Joe pushing her through the hedge, finding Joe lying prone on the sidewalk, calling 911, the ambulance ride to St. Francis. As soon as she was done, they asked her to go through it again, and again.

When she had finished the story for the third time, the detectives started to fire questions at her at machine gun speed. Could she identify the make and model of the car? Did she see the license plates? Did she see the gun? Did she see the driver? How many people were in the car? Did she see where the car went? Were she and Joe arguing? How did she get scratched up? How did she fall in the hedge? Why did Joe push her? How did she and Joe get along? Were she and Joe dating? Did they have a sexual relationship? Were they fighting? Where had she been standing? Where was Joe? Who is Bob? Did she have any enemies? Did she have a jealous boyfriend? Who was Joe dating? Was she jealous? Was she wearing the scrubs at Pino's? Why did you change your clothes? Where are the clothes you were wearing? Did she own a gun? Did she have it with her? Would she submit to fingerprints and gunshot residue tests?

"Wait a minute … you think _I _did this?" She was up out of her chair, on her feet and going into full rhino mode. Eddie came over and put his arm around her.

"I think that Miss Plum has had enough for now. She's been through a harrowing experience and this will all be cleared up when Detective Morelli comes out of surgery." Eddie turned her so he could look into her eyes. "Miss Plum wants to call her lawyer before she answers any more questions, doesn't she?" He gave her a little shake.

"What? Oh, yeah … my lawyer." She looked at Eddie and nodded.

A soft knock at the door distracted them all. Carl, wearing a huge smile, stuck his head in the door. "Hey, thought you guys would like to know, Joe's out of surgery and he's gonna be fine. He's in recovery and they're gonna be taking him to a room on the third floor in a little while. Dr. Ramos asked me to tell you that he's gonna get rid of Joe's mother and grandmother so that you can stay with Joe the rest of the night." He finished off with a wink at her, then closed the door.

The two detectives looked at one another, then the taller of the two turned to Steph with a sigh of disappointment, "That will be all for now Miss Plum. But please make yourself available for further questioning at our discretion and, of course, don't leave Trenton without notifying us." He sounded like a TV cop and Steph almost snorted as he flipped his note pad closed and stuck it and his pen into his jacket pocket. She had been dismissed.

Steph mentally rolled her eyes and resisted the urge to stick out her tongue at the two men, but instead took Eddie's hand. "Thank you Sgt. Gazarra, I appreciate your help and support." She said to him sweetly. She glanced back at the two detectives haughtily, and with head held high, sailed out of the office to go in search of Niko and Joe.

She was approaching the bank of elevators when the doors of one opened and Angie Morelli and Grandma Bella stepped off. Luckily, they turned to the right, not seeing her, and made for the front door of the hospital. Steph ducked into the elevator and huddled in the corner of the car, hidden by the other passengers. When the doors finally closed, she was able to let go of the breath she was holding and sagged against the wall.

She really didn't want to have a confrontation with the Morelli's. Everyone in the Burg knew that Angie and Bella were relieved when she and Joe finally broke up for good. They never believed that Steph was good enough for their Joe. The women happily turned a blind eye to Joe's wild youth and young adulthood. The fact that he had sown his wild oats, but had still grown into a good man without the bad habits that seemed to haunt the Morelli men, made him the family saint in their eyes. They were still waiting for him to find the perfect wife, a cross between Martha Stewart and the Blessed Virgin.

When Steph got off the elevator, Niko was at the nurses' desk, filling out a chart. He smiled as she approached and held out his arm, wrapping it around her waist and pulling her close. "He's fine Steph. He has a concussion and the nurses will have to wake him every couple of hours to make sure there are no complications, but the bullet wound is superficial and he can probably go home tomorrow afternoon."

She put her forehead against his shoulder and blew out a huge breath. "Thank you, Niko. Thanks for taking such good care of him and me."

"My pleasure, Sweetheart. You go sit with him, talk to him for a few minutes when the nurses wake him, make sure he's lucid. I'll be in ER tonight, call me if you need me and I'll take you to breakfast when my shift is over." He leaned down and brushed his lips over hers, then turned her in the direction of Joe's room and gave her a little push. She looked back over her shoulder and gave him a smile and a little finger wave. He smiled and raised his hand to her.

He turned back to the chart and caught the bemused look on the face of the nurse who was sitting on the other side of the counter. "What?" he demanded good-naturedly.

"Ohhhh nothing, Dr. Ramos," she said with an innocent smile.

Steph walked quietly into Joe's room and stood silently watching the nurse adjust the IV dripping into his arm. She shot Steph a warm smile. "He'll be fine. We just have to wake him every couple of hours. Right now he's still under the effects of the anesthesia. I'll be back in a little while; any problems just hit the call button."

Steph pulled the big wing chair over as close to the side of the bed as she could get it and sat down, taking Joe's hand in hers. His handsome face was serene but his forehead was bruised and swollen under the stark white bandage. Niko said that Joe would be okay, and she wanted to believe him. She ran her fingertips over the back of Joe's hand and finally let herself relax.

She must have dozed because the next thing she knew a nurse was bending over Joe, saying his name and asking him to wake up. Joe's breathing changed and he moved a little. Steph ran her fingers over his hand more firmly and told him to open his eyes. He turned his head toward her voice and raised his hand to his head, gingerly touching the bandage on his temple.

He didn't open his eyes, just muttered, "Cupcake? What time is it?"

"Open your eyes and look at me, Joe." He pried open his heavy lids and squinted at her against the bright lights. "Damn," he groaned. "I feel like I've been on a three day bender."

"I know your head hurts. Do you remember what happened?" She tried to keep her voice light and conversational.

"Yeah … no … sorta. I think … you didn't have dessert, I stopped and got ice cream ... and hot fudge." He started to doze off.

Steph leaned over him, "Joe, remember when you made me a hot fudge sundae? Where was that, Joe, do you remember?"

"Umm," Joe said as his eyes slipped shut. "… Mo's."

The pattern was repeated every couple of hours, the nurse came in to wake Joe and Steph would make him talk to her. Joe wasn't happy about either the waking or the talking, and Steph racked her brain to come up with something to make Joe react.

The next time the nurse woke him, Steph waited for her to leave the room before she leaned down and put her head on the pillow close enough to Joe's head that she could whisper in his ear. "I was just remembering, you and me making out in the Buick." His eyes were closed but a slow smile spread over his face.

"I remember," he whispered back as he slitted his eyes open. "That was almost the first time we ever …" His eyes snapped all the way open and he pulled back from her a little. "That was when you left me standing in the middle of Hamilton Avenue … with no pants on!"

She smiled at wide-awake Joe. "Yup … in all your glory, too!"

Joe pushed the control to raise the head of the bed a little. Steph sat on the bed, facing him. "That was just cruel," he groused.

"Oh, just think of it as just desserts. You lied to me and you used me. And THEN you tried to seduce me and now you're blaming me that your plans backfired? I don't think so, mister," she snorted good-naturedly.

"It really is amazing that we ever got together at all, isn't it?" He said with a laugh. "Our whole history has been a roller coaster ride."

"You weren't very happy with me from the get go, were you?' She asked sweetly.

"You commandeered my Jeep!"

"You cuffed me to my shower rod!"

"You stole my distributor cap!"

"You tossed my keys in the dumpster!"

"You locked me in a freezer truck with a couple of corpses!"

"You were FTA!"

"You thought I was guilty!"

"You wrote about me on the stadium wall!"

"You never forgave me!"

"You never told me what you wrote!"

"I told you it was flattering, Steph." He took a breath and recited:

"She's soft and sweet, Miss Stephanie Plum,

I'm the lucky guy who had me some.

All you bums better stay away,

'Cause I'll be back to claim her someday."

"Awwwwwww, that's sweet. But admit it, Morelli, you were scum!" She laughed softly as she said it.

"So you told me, Cupcake," he chuckled.

He yawned and pulled her down to lie on his shoulder, and he kissed her on the top of the head. She wrapped her arm around his waist and they both dozed off.

_**RSRSRSRSRSRS**_

While Stephanie was falling asleep with Joe in Trenton, on the other side of the country, a man was waking up alone. He had been in residence for the last several weeks at a highly classified military installation that was hidden in plain sight on the outer edge of a large city. Housed in an industrial complex and protected by the same security system as the White House, it was near the end of the airport's runways and was surrounded by freeways and off ramps. To the casual observer most of the buildings looked empty. Only two appeared to have tenants, their parking lots busy with workers coming and going. The people who looked like the secretaries, bookkeepers, managers or janitors for the dummy companies whose names and logos were on the sides of the buildings, were in reality Federal employees with the highest level of security clearance.

Every worker in the complex was required to pass the most rigorous background checks that the United States government performed and each had top-secret security clearance. Access and exit to the various areas of the complex was by thumbprint or eye scan, and the entire facility was protected by the Army, both on the ground and from the air. This installation was the kind of place that most people thought existed only on the X-Files or in spy novels.

Housed in a nondescript warehouse deep in the complex was one of the most modern and well-equipped medical facilities in the country. This hospital was geared to provide all levels of medical and psychological care for those who worked as covert operatives. Every government agency that had undercover agents in the field used this type of installation when secrecy was of the utmost importance.

Security cameras tracked a large black car as it drove through the complex and pulled to the curb in front of one of the occupied office buildings. The driver got out to open the back door for the three well-dressed men who stepped out of the vehicle. They strode into the building through the front doors, held open for them by discreetly armed guards. Despite their civilian attire, their haircuts, carriage, and no nonsense demeanor identified them as military men. They breezed through the security checkpoint, their identities coded into the system that allowed them entrance into the maze of underground tunnels that connected the rest of the seemingly abandoned buildings.

The two highly skilled surgical specialists, who had performed the series of complex and intricate operations necessary for the mission, would meet with the visitors to discuss the progress their patient was making. As with all of those who were brought to this facility, the man they had treated was nameless. As far as anyone at the complex was concerned, he had no identity; his charts, files, and medical orders were identified only by a serial number. Since no one spoke to him, no one knew if he was military or civilian, American or from anywhere else in the world, here voluntarily or a prisoner. No one cared what he thought or felt, all that mattered was the mission.

The three visitors had come for a final meeting with the man who had been chosen to undertake this objective, the medical staff, and his handlers. He had arrived several weeks earlier for the final stages of preparation before going into the field. He had been tutored for the role he would assume, carefully schooled in every minute detail he would need to know, to insure that he would survive long enough to achieve his goal. His survival past that point was unimportant and not expected.

His identity was so carefully guarded that strict orders had been issued that no one look directly at him, attempt to engage him in conversation, or enter any room that he was in unless they had a specific duty to perform. Planning meetings were held several times a week; but the man was basically incommunicado, having no personal contact with the workers in the busy complex. He spent his time studying files and films for his assignment, learning about the people, places, and things he would encounter, and being quizzed by his handlers.

It had been necessary for him to leave his life behind, a life he wouldn't return to, and loved ones he would never see again. But a deal had been struck and no matter what the cost, he was a man of his word. Long ago he had learned to turn off his emotions, to build a wall around himself. That wall had served him well, allowing him to live the life he had chosen for himself, allowing him to focus on the goal. But there had been cracks that he hadn't repaired, and people had slipped through, people that he had allowed to touch him. It had been a foolish thing to do, especially since he knew that this day would eventually come.

He sat at the desk in his room and opened the folder that held the photograph. Personal items were strictly forbidden and he had arrived here with nothing more than the clothes he had been wearing. He had been trained well, though; he allowed himself a small, satisfied smile. He knew how to hide things. He ran his finger over picture. _No,_ he thought, _it hadn't been a mistake. It had been worth every minute._

The entire group met in a conference room in the hospital. The man was brought in and displayed in front of them like an exhibit. The doctors explained the surgical procedures that they had performed, before and after pictures had been presented, and the man himself was stood naked before them all and impersonally examined from every angle as of he were some robot, devoid of feelings. The medical personnel were excused, and only the agents involved in the mission remained in the room. The man was questioned by all of them, and his knowledge of the information files verified. His physical appearance and mental abilities were discussed as if he weren't present, as if he were an inanimate object. Finally, the powers that be declared themselves beyond pleased with the results and congratulated themselves for their brilliant choice.

The meeting adjourned and the men and women sitting at the conference table closed their files and rose, chatting among themselves, completely ignoring the naked man standing in the center of the room. He shook his head slightly, and pulled on the sweats that he had worn. He turned to find one of the suits standing in the doorway, watching him.

The suit walked over to the man and put his hand on the younger man's shoulder. "I've been a military man most of my life and I've been in most of the hell holes of the world." He jerked his head toward the door. "Those idiots never did anything but drive a desk and never had any wound worse than a paper cut. They don't have a clue." He looked into the man's eyes. "We both know that there's probably no chance that we'll ever run into one another again," he said with a rueful smile. "I just wanted you to know that I appreciate your sacrifice." He turned and walked to the door then turned back, "Let's hope you live up to your name, Lazarus."

Ranger and Stephanie had been friends, lovers, and partners.

He had been gone two weeks, six days, twenty-one hours, and forty-eight minutes.

_**TBC … **_

_**Please keep those wonderful reviews coming … good, bad, or ugly, I want to hear what you think. Should Steph start to worry about being late? Can you believe that those cops thought she shot Joe??? And you finally know who Lazarus is … Happy now?**_


	17. duplicate Chapter 18

_**Disclaimer: Everyone belongs to Janet Evanovich except the ones that are mine, and I'm just playing.**_

_**Warnings: All 12 books.**_

_**A/N: Karen, I adore you! Thank you for putting up with my Last Minute, Lulu routines! **_

_**Thank you to all of you wonderful readers and reviewers. Please keep the reviews coming, Ranger and Steph and the whole crowd read them over Hal's gourmet breakfasts. **_

_**Akasha has posted a new chapter of her story, "Keep The Faith" … you don't want to miss it! Read and review it please, you'll be glad you did!**_

_**The Name Of The Game!**_

_**By Stayce (XJerseyGirl)**_

_**Chapter 17: Tetris!**_

Steph tucked the phone against her shoulder and listened to Randy Briggs giving her the results of his searches. He really got off on playing 007 and was always available to do some marginally legal, or downright illegal for that matter, computer work … for a price, of course. And since Randy could hack into any computer, anywhere, at anytime, that particular skill was worth every penny he charged.

Steph had farmed out all the research on the Thrasher case to Randy so that she could stay at the hospital with Joe. He had been taken for a follow up CAT scan before the doctors would release him and Steph was waiting in his room.

"Okay '99'," Randy said, "Sonya Thrasher doesn't live at the address listed with NY's DMV. She hasn't remarried, doesn't file income taxes, doesn't own a vehicle or a house, and there's no activity on her social security number, so she doesn't work … at least not at a regular job."

Steph blew out a frustrated sigh and slouched in a chair. They just couldn't catch a break on this case. The team had followed every lead, talked to all of Zoë's friends, teachers, acquaintances, and neighbors. They had interviewed the household help, past and present, delivery people, repairmen, anyone who had come into contact with Zoë Thrasher. They had shown her picture at all her usual hangouts, and at every airport, train and bus station and still hadn't turned up a single clue as to where she was.

So now they had turned their focus to Zoë's mother, the equally elusive Sonya Kirenkova Thrasher. A dump of Zoë's cell phone had revealed dozens of calls made from a pre-paid phone to Zoë's number. No user information was available on pre-paids, but Randy had traced the calls back to Brighton Beach, New York, where all of (Zoë and) Sonya's Russian relatives lived. It seemed a likely place to start looking for the mother and daughter.

"There are at least a dozen Kirenkovs and Kirenkovas that live in that area," Randy reported, "all aunts, uncles, and cousins of our Sonya, all of 'em came to America in a six month period. Her mother and brother are on the list I got from Homeland Security, but they aren't at the addresses listed."

"Thanks Randy," her frustration obvious in her voice. If Randy couldn't find a trail, there was none to be found. "Would you send that to all the team members please?"

"Sure, but don't you wanna hear the good stuff?"

"Good stuff? You found good stuff? Why didn't you say so?" she practically yelled. "Randy, I swear to God …," Steph ground out through clenched teeth. She was on her feet and pacing Joe's hospital room.

"Well hell! If you're gonna be bitchy about it, I'll just keep it to myself. You haven't paid me yet; maybe the price should go up… a lot! You really don't appreciate my skills and talents or the number of laws I had to break …" he was on a roll.

"Okay, okay Randy. I apologize!" Steph said soothingly. "You are wonderful and talented and I have no idea what we'd do without you!"

"And I'm a stud that you lust after..."

"Now you're pushing your luck! What did you find out?"

"She gets her mail at a post office box in Brighton Beach."

"And …?"

"She's got a boyfriend, Yuri Zurvich and he has a record as long as your arm. Started out with petty stuff and worked his way up. He's been picked up a dozen times for everything from drugs to extortion to murder, but nothing ever sticks. Seems that the witnesses keep disappearing. Sounds fishy if you ask me! Rumor has it he's 'connected'."

"To the Mafia? I find that hard to believe!" Steph told him.

"Not the Family, you ding-bat! The _Russian_ Mafia. Brighton Beach is their stomping ground."

"And that's it?"

"Jeez! Aren't you _ever_ satisfied? She's got a police record, picked up for prostitution, twice, and drug possession. She's gotta check in weekly with her probation officer. Hasn't missed a meeting. That tells me she's still in the area."

"I hear a 'but' coming …" Steph sighed.

"Yeah, well, the address that the Probation Department lists is the same one Homeland Security has, and we know that's no good. However," he paused for dramatic effect, "she has an appointment with her probation officer tomorrow morning!"

"Randy, I could kiss you! It looks like the team will be taking a trip to Brighton Beach."

"Don't flatter yourself; you're too flat-chested. I got women lined up around the block, just waiting for me!" and he hung up on her.

She had just snapped her phone shut when Hal poked his head in the door. "Hey, brought your car and some clothes. Didn't know how much longer Morelli would be here and I thought you'd want to get out of those scrubs." He handed her the keys to her Expedition and put a small duffle as well as her purse on the bed.

"Hal, I love you, you're a doll. I can't stand myself at this point." She opened the bag and found toiletries, jeans and a t-shirt, socks and sneakers, and a satin bra and matching panties. Glancing up at him, eyebrows raised, she quipped, "You go through my underwear drawer, Hal?"

Hal's eyes widened as he turned a painful shade of red. "NO! I ... I … I just opened the drawer an inch and … and grabbed the first thing I found … honest … I wouldn't …" he stuttered. Steph laughed and hip-checked him then gave him a quick hug.

"I'm gonna go get cleaned up and change my clothes," she nodded toward the restroom. "Did you have a chance to look at that file I got from Detective Luciano?" She had told Hal about it when she called him to let him know that Joe had been shot and she was at the hospital.

"Yeah, but there's not much in it that we don't already know. The cops haven't really bothered to look for the kid and I'm wondering why. The investigation was handled by a cop named," Hal opened the file to check, "Bartok? You know him?" Steph shook her head 'no'. "He just made a few cursory inquiries and then let it drop. His last note says 'Russian connection' whatever that means, and that's it."

"Maybe Joe would know? He already mentioned trouble with the Russians here in Trenton, I wonder if there's some connection that we don't know about?"

Eight hours later Joe draped his arm over Steph's shoulders as they walked out of the hospital together and headed to her car. "Thanks for driving me home, Cupcake. I really don't think I could have stood my mother hovering over me like the Burg version of Florence Nightingale or Grandma Bella lurking in the shadows saying the rosary." He grimaced and shuddered.

Steph chuckled, "They both have an image to uphold. Your Mom as the shining example of Motherhood that every woman in the Burg strives to attain and Grandma Bella as … well, I'm not sure what."

Joe snorted and gave her a sideways glance. "I heard from Carl that you two had a little showdown in the hospital waiting room."

She smiled and rolled her eyes. "I was only defending myself; she tried to put a curse on me! In front of Father di Angelis, no less." She beeped her car open and Joe threw their duffles into the back seat.

"Well that explains it then. She probably said fifty rosaries while she sat in my room … the Father probably gave them to her for Penance," he said as he settled himself in the passenger seat and leaned his head back against the headrest, "for being in league with the Devil." He turned his head to her and waggled his eyebrows. He lowered his voice dramatically, "You should be afraid … very afraid!"

"Don't worry … I am. God only knows what she'll be cooking up next! I always secretly thought that she was responsible for all my lousy luck with cars. Like she put a standing curse on anything that I drove or something. I have this mental image of her rubbing her hands together and cackling maniacally whenever another one went to car heaven."

Joe tipped his head back and let out a real belly laugh, then putting his hand up to hold his bandaged head, "Owwww!"

"Only hurts when you laugh, huh?" Steph quipped as she pulled out of the parking lot. "I'm gonna stop and get your prescriptions on the way home, okay? Are you hungry? I can call ahead to Pino's and we can pick it up?"

"Sounds good to me." He closed his eyes and yawned. "I'm just gonna rest my eyes a little. You can't get any sleep in a hospital and I admit that I'm pretty tired." He yawned again and settled back.

He was asleep by the time they got to the pharmacy and he slept through the drive to Pino's as well. Steph woke him gently after she pulled into his driveway. He stretched and smiled at her sleepily, then grabbed his bag and the food and they went into the house.

Joe stopped right inside the front door, "Jesus! Would you look at this!" Steph had to peek around him to see what he was talking about and immediately started to laugh.

Joe lived like a typical bachelor. If the bed didn't get made in the morning, no big deal, he was going to sleep in it again anyway. He worked a lot of crazy hours and sometimes he only found time to do laundry when he ran out of underwear. But the garbage was always taken out and there were no dirty dishes in his sink. His house was reasonably clean, but always had a lived in look with the newspaper on the floor by the couch and maybe an empty beer can or chip bag on the end table.

Now it looked like the Morelli women had been at work. There were fresh flowers and a full candy dish on the coffee table, bright colored throw pillows on the couch with a crocheted blanket folded over the back. Aunt Rose's kitchen curtains had been starched and ironed; there were even place mats on the table. The entire place had been dusted, scrubbed and vacuumed and now the windows sparkled in the late afternoon sunlight. Even Bob had been given a bath.

Steph looked around in amazement … it looked just like Joe's mother's house, right down to the picture of Last Supper hanging on the wall. Steph tried to contain her laughter but lost that battle and started to giggle. Joe spun on her and held a finger up in front of her face. "Not a word!" he warned. Steph just bit her lips and hustled into the kitchen.

Steph set the table while Joe went to get a couple of beers from the fridge. He pulled open the door and looked for a second before he released a deep sigh, his shoulders sank and his chin fell to his chest. Steph could hear him muttering under his breath.

"What?" Steph asked and Joe turned to look at her. "There's salad stuff in the vegetable crisper," he growled and stepped back from the fridge, swinging the door open all the way so that Steph could see inside. She snorted. The vegetable crisper was the designated beer cooler … no longer, it would seem. The whole fridge was stocked with all kinds of food and several bottles of wine, but no beer.

They looked at each other, "Grandma Bella!" they said in unison. Wine was okay with Grandma Bella, it was an essential part of dinner, but beer? Beer was the devil's brew.

Joe was just pulling water bottles out of the fridge when there was a knock and Hal's cheerful voice called through the screened storm door, "Anybody home? We come bearing gifts!"

"We're in here!" Joe called from the kitchen.

Hal and Scott strolled in and handed Joe a pair of six packs of Corona and gave Steph a big Pino's bag. "Welcome home! We brought our own dinner. How's your head?"

"A lot better now, that's for sure!" He cracked open a bottle for himself and one for Steph, then handed bottles to Hal and Scott. Joe took a long pull from the bottle and smiled in satisfaction. He looked at the food that Steph was unloading onto the table while the delicious aroma filled the room. "What's the occasion?"

"We need to pick your brain," Steph said. "Remember when you told me that there was some new mob activity in Trenton? Russians, right?" Joe nodded. "Well, we need to know about these guys. You feel up to it?"

"I should have known you'd have an ulterior motive," Joe shook his head. "Do I get to know why you want this kind of information, Cupcake?" He looked directly at Steph, studying her and she knew that he was trying to figure out what she was involved in this time.

Steph shot a glance at Hal who gave her a small shrug, but it was Scott who spoke up.

"We have a missing person case and we just got some information that a prime player is involved with one of the movers and shakers in that particular group." He said non-committally. "We're just trying to figure out what we're dealing with and whether there's a Trenton connection or not."

They all sat down at the table and dug into antipasto, meatball subs, and pasta. "So, what do you need to know?"

"Anything and everything you can tell us," Hal said.

"We had a couple of cops from Brooklyn's Organized Crime Unit come in and give us a crash course after word on the street started talking about this Red Mafyia," Joe said around bites of his meatball sub, "and after we started finding the bodies. Americans have gotten used to the Italian Mafia; it's been around for a couple of hundred years … Al Capone, Prohibition, The Godfather. It's almost part of the American culture. This Russian mob, though, whether they call it the Russkaya Mafyia, Bratva, or whatever, it's a whole new creature."

Joe shook his head. "The Italian Mafia has a code, they don't target families and kids, they swear a blood oath of loyalty to the Godfather or Capo, and they owe loyalty to each other and the organization. The Russians are very different. Loyalty isn't even a word in their vocabulary. They're ruthless and bloodthirsty, and just plain cruel."

"They don't specialize, they're into anything and everything, protection, extortion, drugs, gun running. The Russians have an unlimited supply of black market weapons from the old Soviet Union. You name it, and they can get it. They sell to the highest bidder with no concern what they'll be used for. One Russian godfather was nabbed trying to sell a Soviet submarine to a Colombian drug cartel so that the Colombians could smuggle drugs in the United States. There isn't anything too low for them to be involved in and they're better armed than most of the police agencies."

"We're expecting trouble for your friend, Alexander Ramos." He gave Steph a knowing look. "Looks like there's gonna be a turf war and it won't be pretty. They don't negotiate; they just mow everybody down and take over. It's gonna be dirty and it's gonna be bloody and the cops just aren't equipped to handle it." Joe blew out a heavy sigh as he leaned his head back and rubbed his hands over his face.

Scott looked at Joe. "So what about the cops and the feebs, if they know what's going on, why don't they stop it?"

Joe shrugged. "They would if they could. But even the Feds are having a tough time rounding up the main players because they're changing all the time. There's a whole slew of these loosely organized gangs, mostly based in Brighton Beach; there's lots of in-fighting and assassinations inside the groups so there's all kinds of internal turmoil. By the time we figure out who's in charge, he's dead and somebody else is leading the pack."

They left the kitchen and were all sitting around in Joe's living room. "Steph, I want you to promise me that you won't get involved in anything that has to do with these guys. Women are second-class citizens to them, possessions. We already found a couple of bodies of girls. Looks like they were being forced into prostitution, and when they refused, they were punished. Those girls died hard, Steph. Your reputation won't protect you. They wouldn't hesitate to hurt you." He reached over and took her hand. "I couldn't live with that."

As they all stood to leave, she leaned in and kissed his cheek. "I'll be fine, Joe. I promise that I won't take any chances." He just shook his head, knowing that it was useless to push her.

When she walked into the kitchen to get her bag, Joe lowered his voice and spoke to Hal and Scott. "Keep an eye on her," he reached up and touched his bandaged head. "This bullet wasn't meant for me."

The men nodded in understanding.

X0X0X0X0X0X0X0X0X0X0X0

Ten o'clock the next morning found the team in Brighton Beach, a section of Brooklyn, New York. The beaches in this area were still the biggest summer attractions for New Yorkers and the beach and boardwalk were already jammed with sun worshippers.

Steph parked her Expedition on Flatbush Avenue in Brooklyn. Across the street was the Probation Office where Sonya had her appointment with her Probation Officer. Steph and Jeanne settled in to wait for Sonya and hopefully get an opportunity to talk to her. They didn't have to wait long. A white Mercedes pulled up in front of the office and large man got out of the front seat and opened the back door of the vehicle. The girls recognized Sonya from her photographs. She got out of the car and the man grabbed her arm, bending down to say something to her. She flinched away from him and hurried into the office. The man took up a position outside the door and the car remained double parked in front.

"You think he's a bodyguard?" Steph asked Jeanne.

"He's guarding something, that's for sure. Did you see how she reacted when he spoke to her?"

Steph nodded. "She's scared of him."

Steph's phone chirped and she looked at the Caller ID before she flipped it open. "Dean," she mouthed to Jeanne, and then listened for a minute before snapping her phone shut. "They're in front of the shop where the post office boxes are rented. It's one of those places where you can cash checks, and get mail, all anonymous. Dean says it's not busy so the guys are staying in the car so they won't be made."

Steph and Jeanne waited for about thirty minutes before Sonya came back out of the Probation Office. She got right back into the car and it immediately pulled off. Steph eased out into traffic a couple of cars behind the Mercedes, following them into Brighton Beach.

The white car turned a corner off the main drag and into a street lined with apartment buildings. Each had a shop or restaurant on the first floor with apartments above. The car stopped about halfway down the block and Steph pulled to the curb near the corner and they watched as Sonya got out of the car. The man made a grab for her arm and Sonya twisted away from him. The were yelling at each other and when he raised his hand to slap her, she darted across the busy street and into what appeared to be a pharmacy. The man followed her and waited outside the door.

Steph immediately turned off the engine and hopped out, grabbing her purse as she went, heading across the street and into the store. Jeanne stayed behind on got on her phone to call the guys. Within two minutes, she saw Hal stroll around the corner and down the block toward the car. Jeanne nodded toward the store and Hal wandered down the block, looking into windows, spotting Steph and walking down to the next store.

Inside the store Steph watched as Sonya browsed the few aisles. She picked up a few items and put them in the basket she had over her arm and Steph did the same thing. Every minute or so, Sonya looked out the plate glass window, obviously looking for something or someone. Steph kept her eyes on Sonya and paid no attention to what she was tossing into her basket and when Sonya went to the register, Steph followed. After she paid for her items, Sonya fiddled with her change, looking over her shoulder, out to the street, obviously not wanting to leave. Steph had watched the guy waiting for Sonya, chain-smoking outside the door.

The woman ringing up Steph's purchases suddenly laughed and reached over the counter to pat her arm, chattering happily away in Russian. Steph shrugged in embarrassment, grabbing the tube of sunscreen and the lip balm that she had thrown into the basket. "For the beach," she said by way of explanation of why she was in the store.

The woman nodded and Sonya turned to Steph, "She wants to know if congratulations are in order." When Steph looked confused, Sonya pointed to the box she had placed on the counter. An in-home pregnancy test. Steph smiled weakly and swallowed hard;"We'll see!" she choked out.

Standing this close to her, Steph could see that Sonya's face was badly bruised. She had attempted to cover the discolorations with heavy makeup, but they were clearly visible. Someone had given her a hell of a black eye, and Steph could see the leftovers of a split lip as well. Steph wondered if it was the guy standing outside and a small chill ran through her as she studied him through the window. He had black curly hair and a heavy five o'clock shadow. His eyes were a pale, icy blue, cold and emotionless, his mouth held in a thin cruel line. He was built like a weight lifter who had gone soft from too much food and drink, but Steph had no doubt that he could still inflict damage if he chose to.

Sonya glanced outside, and gave a small sigh of relief. She grabbed her bag and linked her arm through a surprised Steph's, pulling her along and chattering a mile a minute. Sonya walked through the door first and the man watched as she tugged Steph after her. Tall, dark, and ugly immediately backed off and quickly walked back to the Mercedes. Steph watched as Sonya's shoulders slumped in relief.

Sonya watched as the white Mercedes peeled away down the street and squealed around the corner. Sonya turned to Steph, "Yuri has a bad temper, but he's a nice guy most of the time. Thanks." Sonya raised her hand and waved to catch the attention of someone across the street. "Mama," she called. "Mama," a little louder this time. The woman turned and smiled and waved, and Sonya dodged traffic to cross the street. She linked her arm through the older woman's and they strolled down the street together.

Steph waited until the women had turned the corner before she crossed to her car and got in. "Well," she said to Jeanne, "looks like Sonya is my new best friend. The guy in the Mercedes is Yuri and she's walking with Mama."

Jeanne nodded back at her. "I heard," she tapped her earpiece. The entire team was wired. "I think we need to follow Mama and Sonya," she said.

"I think you're right."

Jeanne took over and strolled down the street to a fruit market. She inspected the fruits and vegetables, buying a couple of apples and then just looked into the windows as she made her way down the block. She went into the same store as Sonya and her mother.

Steph stayed in the car and pulled out her files, feeding information to the group. "Mom's name is Irena Kirenkova, the handsome devil who strong-arms her is the boyfriend, Yuri Zurvich. Hopefully, we can follow them home."

Two hours later, Irena and Sonya did just that. Dean and Scott had followed them by car, Hal and Jeanne on foot and Steph had remained in the Expedition. To kill time she reread all the files before shoving them into her purse. Before she fell asleep from boredom, she grabbed her pharmacy bag to get the lip balm, but encountered the pregnancy test kit instead.

Steph had just picked up miscellaneous things and thrown them in her shopping basket in the pharmacy_. I wonder if my subconscious made me choose this particular item, _she thought. _I can't possibly be pregnant; I haven't had sex in months, not since the night before Ranger threw me out, and look how long ago that was_. _No,_ she thought. _It had to be because I got off the birth control and my system is all screwed up. I'll take the test in the morning and it'll show … Oh God! That night with Niko. I dreamt about Ranger, but I woke up with Niko. He said we didn't … but …"_

"Steph, Steph … Are you okay?" Jeanne's voice crackled in her ear and she jumped, startled from her thoughts.

"Yeah, I'm here," she replied as she stuffed the pregnancy test back in the bag.

"Mom led us home. We think you should be the one to talk to her. That okay?"

"I'll be right there, where are you?" Jeanne gave her the address and apartment number.

Steph started the car and drove the couple of blocks to Irena's apartment building, parking across the street. The guys' car wasn't here, but when she looked around, she spotted Dean in a doorway and Scott and Jeanne strolling toward her, carrying a couple of bags. She got out of the Expedition and beeped it closed. The sun was setting and the temperature was falling, people were bringing chairs out and setting them in the shade in front of the apartment buildings.

Steph smiled as she walked up the front steps of the old brownstone apartment building under the watchful eyes of the residents sitting outside. It looked like there were more people outside than in.

Irena Kirenkova lived on the third floor and Steph climbed the steep, narrow stairs and found the apartment, knocking lightly on the door. She could hear the footsteps approach and knew she was being watched through the peephole. She stood in front of the door, wearing a pleasant smile, hoping that that would convince the occupant to open up … both the door and her mouth.

She could hear the security chain being slid into place and the locks turned. The door inched open, and the brittle blue eyes of an older woman looked out at them. "What do you want?" said the heavily accented voice. She obviously could tell that Steph wasn't from the Russian community.

"I'm sorry to bother you, but I'm trying to locate Irena Kirenkova," she said with a smile.

The blue eyes narrowed in suspicion. "Why do you look for her here? There is no one here with that name."

"Well, actually," Steph went on almost conversationally, "I'm looking for her daughter, Sonya."

"I don't know no Sonya." She moved to close the door.

"Wait! I'm trying to find Zoë, Sonya's daughter. She's missing and he father is worried about her. He hired me to find her." Steph hurried on, "I'm trying to make sure that nothing bad has happened to her." Steph held up a picture of the girl and the woman's expression immediately softened. She took the chain off the door and opened it a little wider, reaching out for the picture.

Steph let the woman take the picture and watched her gaze at it. "I have never seen her, she is so beautiful. Like her mother was when she was a girl." She ran her fingertips over the photograph, then seemed to realize what she had said, and paled.

"It's alright Mrs. Kirenkova. I'm not the police or the authorities. I don't want to make trouble for anybody; I just want to get Zoë back to her father." The woman looked at Steph for a long minute, then stepped back and opened the door.

Steph stepped through the doorway and into a small foyer. The small apartment was neat and clean with old-fashioned lace curtains in the windows. The walls were hung with old family photos, pictures of cathedrals with onion domes, and monuments, probably images of Russia. Mrs. Kirenkova ushered her into the living room and they sat, side by side, on the couch. She stared at the picture of Zoë, studying it with a small sad smile on her face. She pulled a hankie from her apron pocket and swiped at her eyes.

Finally, she looked up at them and took a deep breath. "I am Irena Kirenkova and Sonya is my daughter."

Stephanie leaned forward, and put her hand on Irena's. "I really need to find Zoë. I think that she may be with her mother. If you can tell me anything that would help, anything at all …"

But Irena was shaking her head violently from side to side. "No, no, Sonya would not do that. Sonya would not do nothing to hurt her child."

"Maybe Zoë wanted to get to know her mother and ran away to find her, I didn't mean the Sonya would hurt her. Maybe she's hiding Zoë from her fath …"

Irena jumped out of her chair and went to the door, pulling it open. "You must go … NOW. You want to make trouble for my girl. Zoë will go home, I know."

"Mrs. Kirenkova, could you tell me where I could find your son?" Steph asked. "Maybe he knows something that would help."

Irena looked at Steph, clearly confused. "I have no son, only Sonya."

"I'm sorry, but a Vladymir Kirenkov is listed …"

Irena took a step back, visibly shaken. "Go, you must go, now. Leave here, go home, Zoë is not here, go away and do not come back. This is not a place for Americans." She shoved Steph through the door and pressed the photo of Zoë into her hands.

"Keep it," Steph handed the picture back to the woman along with her business card. "You can call me anytime, day or night. Sonya can, too. I'll help any way I can." Their eyes met and held for a minute before Irena slammed the door shut.

Steph trudged back down the dark stairs; the sun had set and there were no lights on any of the landings. She had just reached the second floor when she sensed someone behind her. Before she could turn she was slammed face first into the wall and pinned from shoulders to knees by a heavy body. The barrel of a gun was pressed to her temple.

Her bag was ripped off her shoulder and dumped on the floor; she could hear the papers fluttering down the stairs. A large hand on the back of her neck held her in place, thick fingers digging into her flesh. The beam from a flashlight shown in her eyes, blinding her. There were at least two men, maybe more.

Her cheek and shoulder were on fire, and tears slipped down her face from the shock and pain. She heard the Velcro on her wallet peel open and a heavily accented voice read her name and address from her driver's license.

"I give only one warning," the voice hissed. "Leave here Stephanie Plum and do not come back. Take your pretty nose out of business that is not yours or you will lose it. Do you understand me? Do you?" The hand moved from her neck to her hair and jerked her head back, hard, shaking her head, bouncing it into the wall when she didn't answer.

"Yes, I understand." She sucked in a sharp breath.

"Good! Remember I know where you live and I will pay you a visit. I will have a good time, you will not." He laughed as his arm snaked around her waist and lifted her off the floor. He squeezed her breasts, then grabbed her by the throat and forced her head around to kiss her, shoving his tongue into her mouth. She tried to twist away from him, but he was too strong. His hand slid up her leg, under her skirt to her panties, and he tried to slip his fingers inside.

Steph took a deep breath and dropped her chin to her chest, then brought her head back as hard as she could right into his face. She heard the satisfying crunch of his nose breaking, and he yelped as he dropped her to grab his face. She landed in a heap on the floor, the man cursing at the top of his lungs. He swung his fist to punch her, but missed in the dark so he hauled back with his foot and lashed out in a vicious kick, but only landed a glancing blow to the back of her leg.

From below her, she heard her name being bellowed … Hal. The two attackers took off, leaving Steph lying on the landing. She tried to call out to him, but her words stuck in her throat as she gasped for breath.

Hal came thundering up the stairs, gun in hand, almost stepping on her in the dark. "Jesus, Steph! You okay?" She just nodded and wiped at the tears on her face with the back of her shaking hand.

He bent down, and helped her to her feet but her leg immediately buckled under her. If he hadn't caught her, she would have hit the floor. He knelt beside her and gently lifted her trembling body into his arms, "I got you, Steph. It'll be okay," he whispered to her as he carried her down the stairs and out of the building.

Ranger and Stephanie had been friends, lovers, and partners.

He had been gone three weeks, six days, seventeen hours, and twelve minutes.

_**TBC …**_

A/N: Not the most exciting chapter, but a necessary one. You won't know who the players are if I don't tell you now. Thank you to everyone who emailed and PMed with their questions … that was fun and Ranger had a great time answering them. He says 'Thanks' also.

In honor of the release of Lean Mean Thirteen, due in stores next Tuesday, there won't be a chapter posted until June 26. Nobody's gonna want to read Game when there will be a brand new JE for all of us to enjoy. Happy reading! Thanks to all the readers and reviewers!

And read Akasha's stories … they're fantastic!


	18. Tetris

_**Disclaimer: Everyone belongs to Janet Evanovich except the ones that are mine, and I'm just playing.**_

_**Warnings: All 12 books.**_

_**A/N: Karen, I adore you! Thank you for putting up with my Last Minute, Lulu routines! **_

_**Thank you to all of you wonderful readers and reviewers. Please keep the reviews coming, Ranger and Steph and the whole crowd read them over Hal's gourmet breakfasts. **_

_**Akasha has started a new story, "Keep The Faith" … you don't want to miss it! Read and review it please, you'll be glad you did!**_

_**The Name Of The Game!**_

_**By Stayce (XJerseyGirl)**_

_**Chapter 17: Tetris!**_

Steph tucked the phone against her shoulder and listened to Randy Briggs giving her the results of his searches. He really got off on playing 007 and was always available to do some marginally legal, or downright illegal for that matter, computer work … for a price, of course. And since Randy could hack into any computer, anywhere, at anytime, that particular skill was worth every penny he charged.

Steph had farmed out all the research on the Thrasher case to Randy so that she could stay at the hospital with Joe. He had been taken for a follow up CAT scan before the doctors would release him and Steph was waiting in his room.

"Okay '99'," Randy said, "Sonya Thrasher doesn't live at the address listed with NY's DMV. She hasn't remarried, doesn't file income taxes, doesn't own a vehicle or a house, and there's no activity on her social security number, so she doesn't work … at least not at a regular job."

Steph blew out a frustrated sigh and slouched in a chair. They just couldn't catch a break on this case. The team had followed every lead, talked to all of Zoë's friends, teachers, acquaintances, and neighbors. They had interviewed the household help, past and present, delivery people, repairmen, anyone who had come into contact with Zoë Thrasher. They had shown her picture at all her usual hangouts, and at every airport, train and bus station and still hadn't turned up a single clue as to where she was.

So now they had turned their focus to Zoë's mother, the equally elusive Sonya Kirenkova Thrasher. A dump of Zoë's cell phone had revealed dozens of calls made from a pre-paid phone to Zoë's number. No user information was available on pre-paids, but Randy had traced the calls back to Brighton Beach, New York, where all of (Zoë and) Sonya's Russian relatives lived. It seemed a likely place to start looking for the mother and daughter.

"There are at least a dozen Kirenkovs and Kirenkovas that live in that area," Randy reported, "all aunts, uncles, and cousins of our Sonya, all of 'em came to America in a six month period. Her mother and brother are on the list I got from Homeland Security, but they aren't at the addresses listed."

"Thanks Randy," her frustration obvious in her voice. If Randy couldn't find a trail, there was none to be found. "Would you send that to all the team members please?"

"Sure, but don't you wanna hear the good stuff?"

"Good stuff? You found good stuff? Why didn't you say so?" she practically yelled. "Randy, I swear to God …," Steph ground out through clenched teeth. She was on her feet and pacing Joe's hospital room.

"Well hell! If you're gonna be bitchy about it, I'll just keep it to myself. You haven't paid me yet; maybe the price should go up… a lot! You really don't appreciate my skills and talents or the number of laws I had to break …" he was on a roll.

"Okay, okay Randy. I apologize!" Steph said soothingly. "You are wonderful and talented and I have no idea what we'd do without you!"

"And I'm a stud that you lust after..."

"Now you're pushing your luck! What did you find out?"

"She gets her mail at a post office box in Brighton Beach."

"And …?"

"She's got a boyfriend, Yuri Zurvich and he has a record as long as your arm. Started out with petty stuff and worked his way up. He's been picked up a dozen times for everything from drugs to extortion to murder, but nothing ever sticks. Seems that the witnesses keep disappearing. Sounds fishy if you ask me! Rumor has it he's 'connected'."

"To the Mafia? I find that hard to believe!" Steph told him.

"Not the Family, you ding-bat! The _Russian_ Mafia. Brighton Beach is their stomping ground."

"And that's it?"

"Jeez! Aren't you _ever_ satisfied? She's got a police record, picked up for prostitution, twice, and drug possession. She's gotta check in weekly with her probation officer. Hasn't missed a meeting. That tells me she's still in the area."

"I hear a 'but' coming …" Steph sighed.

"Yeah, well, the address that the Probation Department lists is the same one Homeland Security has, and we know that's no good. However," he paused for dramatic effect, "she has an appointment with her probation officer tomorrow morning!"

"Randy, I could kiss you! It looks like the team will be taking a trip to Brighton Beach."

"Don't flatter yourself; you're too flat-chested. I got women lined up around the block, just waiting for me!" and he hung up on her.

She had just snapped her phone shut when Hal poked his head in the door. "Hey, brought your car and some clothes. Didn't know how much longer Morelli would be here and I thought you'd want to get out of those scrubs." He handed her the keys to her Expedition and put a small duffle as well as her purse on the bed.

"Hal, I love you, you're a doll. I can't stand myself at this point." She opened the bag and found toiletries, jeans and a t-shirt, socks and sneakers, and a satin bra and matching panties. Glancing up at him, eyebrows raised, she quipped, "You go through my underwear drawer, Hal?"

Hal's eyes widened as he turned a painful shade of red. "NO! I ... I … I just opened the drawer an inch and … and grabbed the first thing I found … honest … I wouldn't …" he stuttered. Steph laughed and hip-checked him then gave him a quick hug.

"I'm gonna go get cleaned up and change my clothes," she nodded toward the restroom. "Did you have a chance to look at that file I got from Detective Luciano?" She had told Hal about it when she called him to let him know that Joe had been shot and she was at the hospital.

"Yeah, but there's not much in it that we don't already know. The cops haven't really bothered to look for the kid and I'm wondering why. The investigation was handled by a cop named," Hal opened the file to check, "Bartok? You know him?" Steph shook her head 'no'. "He just made a few cursory inquiries and then let it drop. His last note says 'Russian connection' whatever that means, and that's it."

"Maybe Joe would know? He already mentioned trouble with the Russians here in Trenton, I wonder if there's some connection that we don't know about?"

Eight hours later Joe draped his arm over Steph's shoulders as they walked out of the hospital together and headed to her car. "Thanks for driving me home, Cupcake. I really don't think I could have stood my mother hovering over me like the Burg version of Florence Nightingale or Grandma Bella lurking in the shadows saying the rosary." He grimaced and shuddered.

Steph chuckled, "They both have an image to uphold. Your Mom as the shining example of Motherhood that every woman in the Burg strives to attain and Grandma Bella as … well, I'm not sure what."

Joe snorted and gave her a sideways glance. "I heard from Carl that you two had a little showdown in the hospital waiting room."

She smiled and rolled her eyes. "I was only defending myself; she tried to put a curse on me! In front of Father di Angelis, no less." She beeped her car open and Joe threw their duffles into the back seat.

"Well that explains it then. She probably said fifty rosaries while she sat in my room … the Father probably gave them to her for Penance," he said as he settled himself in the passenger seat and leaned his head back against the headrest, "for being in league with the Devil." He turned his head to her and waggled his eyebrows. He lowered his voice dramatically, "You should be afraid … very afraid!"

"Don't worry … I am. God only knows what she'll be cooking up next! I always secretly thought that she was responsible for all my lousy luck with cars. Like she put a standing curse on anything that I drove or something. I have this mental image of her rubbing her hands together and cackling maniacally whenever another one went to car heaven."

Joe tipped his head back and let out a real belly laugh, then putting his hand up to hold his bandaged head, "Owwww!"

"Only hurts when you laugh, huh?" Steph quipped as she pulled out of the parking lot. "I'm gonna stop and get your prescriptions on the way home, okay? Are you hungry? I can call ahead to Pino's and we can pick it up?"

"Sounds good to me." He closed his eyes and yawned. "I'm just gonna rest my eyes a little. You can't get any sleep in a hospital and I admit that I'm pretty tired." He yawned again and settled back.

He was asleep by the time they got to the pharmacy and he slept through the drive to Pino's as well. Steph woke him gently after she pulled into his driveway. He stretched and smiled at her sleepily, then grabbed his bag and the food and they went into the house.

Joe stopped right inside the front door, "Jesus! Would you look at this!" Steph had to peek around him to see what he was talking about and immediately started to laugh.

Joe lived like a typical bachelor. If the bed didn't get made in the morning, no big deal, he was going to sleep in it again anyway. He worked a lot of crazy hours and sometimes he only found time to do laundry when he ran out of underwear. But the garbage was always taken out and there were no dirty dishes in his sink. His house was reasonably clean, but always had a lived in look with the newspaper on the floor by the couch and maybe an empty beer can or chip bag on the end table.

Now it looked like the Morelli women had been at work. There were fresh flowers and a full candy dish on the coffee table, bright colored throw pillows on the couch with a crocheted blanket folded over the back. Aunt Rose's kitchen curtains had been starched and ironed; there were even place mats on the table. The entire place had been dusted, scrubbed and vacuumed and now the windows sparkled in the late afternoon sunlight. Even Bob had been given a bath.

Steph looked around in amazement … it looked just like Joe's mother's house, right down to the picture of Last Supper hanging on the wall. Steph tried to contain her laughter but lost that battle and started to giggle. Joe spun on her and held a finger up in front of her face. "Not a word!" he warned. Steph just bit her lips and hustled into the kitchen.

Steph set the table while Joe went to get a couple of beers from the fridge. He pulled open the door and looked for a second before he released a deep sigh, his shoulders sank and his chin fell to his chest. Steph could hear him muttering under his breath.

"What?" Steph asked and Joe turned to look at her. "There's salad stuff in the vegetable crisper," he growled and stepped back from the fridge, swinging the door open all the way so that Steph could see inside. She snorted. The vegetable crisper was the designated beer cooler … no longer, it would seem. The whole fridge was stocked with all kinds of food and several bottles of wine, but no beer.

They looked at each other, "Grandma Bella!" they said in unison. Wine was okay with Grandma Bella, it was an essential part of dinner, but beer? Beer was the devil's brew.

Joe was just pulling water bottles out of the fridge when there was a knock and Hal's cheerful voice called through the screened storm door, "Anybody home? We come bearing gifts!"

"We're in here!" Joe called from the kitchen.

Hal and Scott strolled in and handed Joe a pair of six packs of Corona and gave Steph a big Pino's bag. "Welcome home! We brought our own dinner. How's your head?"

"A lot better now, that's for sure!" He cracked open a bottle for himself and one for Steph, then handed bottles to Hal and Scott. Joe took a long pull from the bottle and smiled in satisfaction. He looked at the food that Steph was unloading onto the table while the delicious aroma filled the room. "What's the occasion?"

"We need to pick your brain," Steph said. "Remember when you told me that there was some new mob activity in Trenton? Russians, right?" Joe nodded. "Well, we need to know about these guys. You feel up to it?"

"I should have known you'd have an ulterior motive," Joe shook his head. "Do I get to know why you want this kind of information, Cupcake?" He looked directly at Steph, studying her and she knew that he was trying to figure out what she was involved in this time.

Steph shot a glance at Hal who gave her a small shrug, but it was Scott who spoke up.

"We have a missing person case and we just got some information that a prime player is involved with one of the movers and shakers in that particular group." He said non-committally. "We're just trying to figure out what we're dealing with and whether there's a Trenton connection or not."

They all sat down at the table and dug into antipasto, meatball subs, and pasta. "So, what do you need to know?"

"Anything and everything you can tell us," Hal said.

"We had a couple of cops from Brooklyn's Organized Crime Unit come in and give us a crash course after word on the street started talking about this Red Mafyia," Joe said around bites of his meatball sub, "and after we started finding the bodies. Americans have gotten used to the Italian Mafia; it's been around for a couple of hundred years … Al Capone, Prohibition, The Godfather. It's almost part of the American culture. This Russian mob, though, whether they call it the Russkaya Mafyia, Bratva, or whatever, it's a whole new creature."

Joe shook his head. "The Italian Mafia has a code, they don't target families and kids, they swear a blood oath of loyalty to the Godfather or Capo, and they owe loyalty to each other and the organization. The Russians are very different. Loyalty isn't even a word in their vocabulary. They're ruthless and bloodthirsty, and just plain cruel."

"They don't specialize, they're into anything and everything, protection, extortion, drugs, gun running. The Russians have an unlimited supply of black market weapons from the old Soviet Union. You name it, and they can get it. They sell to the highest bidder with no concern what they'll be used for. One Russian godfather was nabbed trying to sell a Soviet submarine to a Colombian drug cartel so that the Colombians could smuggle drugs in the United States. There isn't anything too low for them to be involved in and they're better armed than most of the police agencies."

"We're expecting trouble for your friend, Alexander Ramos." He gave Steph a knowing look. "Looks like there's gonna be a turf war and it won't be pretty. They don't negotiate; they just mow everybody down and take over. It's gonna be dirty and it's gonna be bloody and the cops just aren't equipped to handle it." Joe blew out a heavy sigh as he leaned his head back and rubbed his hands over his face.

Scott looked at Joe. "So what about the cops and the feebs, if they know what's going on, why don't they stop it?"

Joe shrugged. "They would if they could. But even the Feds are having a tough time rounding up the main players because they're changing all the time. There's a whole slew of these loosely organized gangs, mostly based in Brighton Beach; there's lots of in-fighting and assassinations inside the groups so there's all kinds of internal turmoil. By the time we figure out who's in charge, he's dead and somebody else is leading the pack."

They left the kitchen and were all sitting around in Joe's living room. "Steph, I want you to promise me that you won't get involved in anything that has to do with these guys. Women are second-class citizens to them, possessions. We already found a couple of bodies of girls. Looks like they were being forced into prostitution, and when they refused, they were punished. Those girls died hard, Steph. Your reputation won't protect you. They wouldn't hesitate to hurt you." He reached over and took her hand. "I couldn't live with that."

As they all stood to leave, she leaned in and kissed his cheek. "I'll be fine, Joe. I promise that I won't take any chances." He just shook his head, knowing that it was useless to push her.

When she walked into the kitchen to get her bag, Joe lowered his voice and spoke to Hal and Scott. "Keep an eye on her," he reached up and touched his bandaged head. "This bullet wasn't meant for me."

The men nodded in understanding.

X0X0X0X0X0X0X0X0X0X0X0

Ten o'clock the next morning found the team in Brighton Beach, a section of Brooklyn, New York. The beaches in this area were still the biggest summer attractions for New Yorkers and the beach and boardwalk were already jammed with sun worshippers.

Steph parked her Expedition on Flatbush Avenue in Brooklyn. Across the street was the Probation Office where Sonya had her appointment with her Probation Officer. Steph and Jeanne settled in to wait for Sonya and hopefully get an opportunity to talk to her. They didn't have to wait long. A white Mercedes pulled up in front of the office and large man got out of the front seat and opened the back door of the vehicle. The girls recognized Sonya from her photographs. She got out of the car and the man grabbed her arm, bending down to say something to her. She flinched away from him and hurried into the office. The man took up a position outside the door and the car remained double parked in front.

"You think he's a bodyguard?" Steph asked Jeanne.

"He's guarding something, that's for sure. Did you see how she reacted when he spoke to her?"

Steph nodded. "She's scared of him."

Steph's phone chirped and she looked at the Caller ID before she flipped it open. "Dean," she mouthed to Jeanne, and then listened for a minute before snapping her phone shut. "They're in front of the shop where the post office boxes are rented. It's one of those places where you can cash checks, and get mail, all anonymous. Dean says it's not busy so the guys are staying in the car so they won't be made."

Steph and Jeanne waited for about thirty minutes before Sonya came back out of the Probation Office. She got right back into the car and it immediately pulled off. Steph eased out into traffic a couple of cars behind the Mercedes, following them into Brighton Beach.

The white car turned a corner off the main drag and into a street lined with apartment buildings. Each had a shop or restaurant on the first floor with apartments above. The car stopped about halfway down the block and Steph pulled to the curb near the corner and they watched as Sonya got out of the car. The man made a grab for her arm and Sonya twisted away from him. The were yelling at each other and when he raised his hand to slap her, she darted across the busy street and into what appeared to be a pharmacy. The man followed her and waited outside the door.

Steph immediately turned off the engine and hopped out, grabbing her purse as she went, heading across the street and into the store. Jeanne stayed behind on got on her phone to call the guys. Within two minutes, she saw Hal stroll around the corner and down the block toward the car. Jeanne nodded toward the store and Hal wandered down the block, looking into windows, spotting Steph and walking down to the next store.

Inside the store Steph watched as Sonya browsed the few aisles. She picked up a few items and put them in the basket she had over her arm and Steph did the same thing. Every minute or so, Sonya looked out the plate glass window, obviously looking for something or someone. Steph kept her eyes on Sonya and paid no attention to what she was tossing into her basket and when Sonya went to the register, Steph followed. After she paid for her items, Sonya fiddled with her change, looking over her shoulder, out to the street, obviously not wanting to leave. Steph had watched the guy waiting for Sonya, chain-smoking outside the door.

The woman ringing up Steph's purchases suddenly laughed and reached over the counter to pat her arm, chattering happily away in Russian. Steph shrugged in embarrassment, grabbing the tube of sunscreen and the lip balm that she had thrown into the basket. "For the beach," she said by way of explanation of why she was in the store.

The woman nodded and Sonya turned to Steph, "She wants to know if congratulations are in order." When Steph looked confused, Sonya pointed to the box she had placed on the counter. An in-home pregnancy test. Steph smiled weakly and swallowed hard;"We'll see!" she choked out.

Standing this close to her, Steph could see that Sonya's face was badly bruised. She had attempted to cover the discolorations with heavy makeup, but they were clearly visible. Someone had given her a hell of a black eye, and Steph could see the leftovers of a split lip as well. Steph wondered if it was the guy standing outside and a small chill ran through her as she studied him through the window. He had black curly hair and a heavy five o'clock shadow. His eyes were a pale, icy blue, cold and emotionless, his mouth held in a thin cruel line. He was built like a weight lifter who had gone soft from too much food and drink, but Steph had no doubt that he could still inflict damage if he chose to.

Sonya glanced outside, and gave a small sigh of relief. She grabbed her bag and linked her arm through a surprised Steph's, pulling her along and chattering a mile a minute. Sonya walked through the door first and the man watched as she tugged Steph after her. Tall, dark, and ugly immediately backed off and quickly walked back to the Mercedes. Steph watched as Sonya's shoulders slumped in relief.

Sonya watched as the white Mercedes peeled away down the street and squealed around the corner. Sonya turned to Steph, "Yuri has a bad temper, but he's a nice guy most of the time. Thanks." Sonya raised her hand and waved to catch the attention of someone across the street. "Mama," she called. "Mama," a little louder this time. The woman turned and smiled and waved, and Sonya dodged traffic to cross the street. She linked her arm through the older woman's and they strolled down the street together.

Steph waited until the women had turned the corner before she crossed to her car and got in. "Well," she said to Jeanne, "looks like Sonya is my new best friend. The guy in the Mercedes is Yuri and she's walking with Mama."

Jeanne nodded back at her. "I heard," she tapped her earpiece. The entire team was wired. "I think we need to follow Mama and Sonya," she said.

"I think you're right."

Jeanne took over and strolled down the street to a fruit market. She inspected the fruits and vegetables, buying a couple of apples and then just looked into the windows as she made her way down the block. She went into the same store as Sonya and her mother.

Steph stayed in the car and pulled out her files, feeding information to the group. "Mom's name is Irena Kirenkova, the handsome devil who strong-arms her is the boyfriend, Yuri Zurvich. Hopefully, we can follow them home."

Two hours later, Irena and Sonya did just that. Dean and Scott had followed them by car, Hal and Jeanne on foot and Steph had remained in the Expedition. To kill time she reread all the files before shoving them into her purse. Before she fell asleep from boredom, she grabbed her pharmacy bag to get the lip balm, but encountered the pregnancy test kit instead.

Steph had just picked up miscellaneous things and thrown them in her shopping basket in the pharmacy_. I wonder if my subconscious made me choose this particular item, _she thought. _I can't possibly be pregnant; I haven't had sex in months, not since the night before Ranger threw me out, and look how long ago that was_. _No,_ she thought. _It had to be because I got off the birth control and my system is all screwed up. I'll take the test in the morning and it'll show … Oh God! That night with Niko. I dreamt about Ranger, but I woke up with Niko. He said we didn't … but …"_

"Steph, Steph … Are you okay?" Jeanne's voice crackled in her ear and she jumped, startled from her thoughts.

"Yeah, I'm here," she replied as she stuffed the pregnancy test back in the bag.

"Mom led us home. We think you should be the one to talk to her. That okay?"

"I'll be right there, where are you?" Jeanne gave her the address and apartment number.

Steph started the car and drove the couple of blocks to Irena's apartment building, parking across the street. The guys' car wasn't here, but when she looked around, she spotted Dean in a doorway and Scott and Jeanne strolling toward her, carrying a couple of bags. She got out of the Expedition and beeped it closed. The sun was setting and the temperature was falling, people were bringing chairs out and setting them in the shade in front of the apartment buildings.

Steph smiled as she walked up the front steps of the old brownstone apartment building under the watchful eyes of the residents sitting outside. It looked like there were more people outside than in.

Irena Kirenkova lived on the third floor and Steph climbed the steep, narrow stairs and found the apartment, knocking lightly on the door. She could hear the footsteps approach and knew she was being watched through the peephole. She stood in front of the door, wearing a pleasant smile, hoping that that would convince the occupant to open up … both the door and her mouth.

She could hear the security chain being slid into place and the locks turned. The door inched open, and the brittle blue eyes of an older woman looked out at them. "What do you want?" said the heavily accented voice. She obviously could tell that Steph wasn't from the Russian community.

"I'm sorry to bother you, but I'm trying to locate Irena Kirenkova," she said with a smile.

The blue eyes narrowed in suspicion. "Why do you look for her here? There is no one here with that name."

"Well, actually," Steph went on almost conversationally, "I'm looking for her daughter, Sonya."

"I don't know no Sonya." She moved to close the door.

"Wait! I'm trying to find Zoë, Sonya's daughter. She's missing and he father is worried about her. He hired me to find her." Steph hurried on, "I'm trying to make sure that nothing bad has happened to her." Steph held up a picture of the girl and the woman's expression immediately softened. She took the chain off the door and opened it a little wider, reaching out for the picture.

Steph let the woman take the picture and watched her gaze at it. "I have never seen her, she is so beautiful. Like her mother was when she was a girl." She ran her fingertips over the photograph, then seemed to realize what she had said, and paled.

"It's alright Mrs. Kirenkova. I'm not the police or the authorities. I don't want to make trouble for anybody; I just want to get Zoë back to her father." The woman looked at Steph for a long minute, then stepped back and opened the door.

Steph stepped through the doorway and into a small foyer. The small apartment was neat and clean with old-fashioned lace curtains in the windows. The walls were hung with old family photos, pictures of cathedrals with onion domes, and monuments, probably images of Russia. Mrs. Kirenkova ushered her into the living room and they sat, side by side, on the couch. She stared at the picture of Zoë, studying it with a small sad smile on her face. She pulled a hankie from her apron pocket and swiped at her eyes.

Finally, she looked up at them and took a deep breath. "I am Irena Kirenkova and Sonya is my daughter."

Stephanie leaned forward, and put her hand on Irena's. "I really need to find Zoë. I think that she may be with her mother. If you can tell me anything that would help, anything at all …"

But Irena was shaking her head violently from side to side. "No, no, Sonya would not do that. Sonya would not do nothing to hurt her child."

"Maybe Zoë wanted to get to know her mother and ran away to find her, I didn't mean the Sonya would hurt her. Maybe she's hiding Zoë from her fath …"

Irena jumped out of her chair and went to the door, pulling it open. "You must go … NOW. You want to make trouble for my girl. Zoë will go home, I know."

"Mrs. Kirenkova, could you tell me where I could find your son?" Steph asked. "Maybe he knows something that would help."

Irena looked at Steph, clearly confused. "I have no son, only Sonya."

"I'm sorry, but a Vladymir Kirenkov is listed …"

Irena took a step back, visibly shaken. "Go, you must go, now. Leave here, go home, Zoë is not here, go away and do not come back. This is not a place for Americans." She shoved Steph through the door and pressed the photo of Zoë into her hands.

"Keep it," Steph handed the picture back to the woman along with her business card. "You can call me anytime, day or night. Sonya can, too. I'll help any way I can." Their eyes met and held for a minute before Irena slammed the door shut.

Steph trudged back down the dark stairs; the sun had set and there were no lights on any of the landings. She had just reached the second floor when she sensed someone behind her. Before she could turn she was slammed face first into the wall and pinned from shoulders to knees by a heavy body. The barrel of a gun was pressed to her temple.

Her bag was ripped off her shoulder and dumped on the floor; she could hear the papers fluttering down the stairs. A large hand on the back of her neck held her in place, thick fingers digging into her flesh. The beam from a flashlight shown in her eyes, blinding her. There were at least two men, maybe more.

Her cheek and shoulder were on fire, and tears slipped down her face from the shock and pain. She heard the Velcro on her wallet peel open and a heavily accented voice read her name and address from her driver's license.

"I give only one warning," the voice hissed. "Leave here Stephanie Plum and do not come back. Take your pretty nose out of business that is not yours or you will lose it. Do you understand me? Do you?" The hand moved from her neck to her hair and jerked her head back, hard, shaking her head, bouncing it into the wall when she didn't answer.

"Yes, I understand." She sucked in a sharp breath.

"Good! Remember I know where you live and I will pay you a visit. I will have a good time, you will not." He laughed as his arm snaked around her waist and lifted her off the floor. He squeezed her breasts, then grabbed her by the throat and forced her head around to kiss her, shoving his tongue into her mouth. She tried to twist away from him, but he was too strong. His hand slid up her leg, under her skirt to her panties, and he tried to slip his fingers inside.

Steph took a deep breath and dropped her chin to her chest, then brought her head back as hard as she could right into his face. She heard the satisfying crunch of his nose breaking, and he yelped as he dropped her to grab his face. She landed in a heap on the floor, the man cursing at the top of his lungs. He swung his fist to punch her, but missed in the dark so he hauled back with his foot and lashed out in a vicious kick, but only landed a glancing blow to the back of her leg.

From below her, she heard her name being bellowed … Hal. The two attackers took off, leaving Steph lying on the landing. She tried to call out to him, but her words stuck in her throat as she gasped for breath.

Hal came thundering up the stairs, gun in hand, almost stepping on her in the dark. "Jesus, Steph! You okay?" She just nodded and wiped at the tears on her face with the back of her shaking hand.

He bent down, and helped her to her feet but her leg immediately buckled under her. If he hadn't caught her, she would have hit the floor. He knelt beside her and gently lifted her trembling body into his arms, "I got you, Steph. It'll be okay," he whispered to her as he carried her down the stairs and out of the building.

Ranger and Stephanie had been friends, lovers, and partners.

He had been gone three weeks, six days, seventeen hours, and twelve minutes.

_**TBC …**_

A/N: Not the most exciting chapter, but a necessary one. You won't know who the players are if I don't tell you now. Thank you to everyone who emailed and PMed with their questions … that was fun and Ranger had a great time answering them. He says 'Thanks' also.

In honor of the release of Lean Mean Thirteen, due in stores next Tuesday, there won't be a chapter posted until June 26. Nobody's gonna want to read Game when there will be a brand new JE for all of us to enjoy. Happy reading! Thanks to all the readers and reviewers!

And read Akasha's stories … they're stupendous!


	19. Guessing Games!

_**Disclaimer: Everyone belongs to Janet Evanovich except the ones that are mine, and I'm just playing.**_

_**Warnings: Semi-Smut and Language, All 12 books.**_

_**A/N: Karen, I adore you! Thank you for putting up with my Last Minute, Lulu routines! **_

_**Thank you to all of you wonderful readers and reviewers. Please keep the reviews coming, Ranger and Steph and the whole crowd read them over Hal's gourmet breakfasts. **_

_**Don't forget to read Kashy's "Keep The Faith" … you don't want to miss it! Read and review it please, you'll be glad you did!**_

_**The Name Of The Game!**_

_**By Stayce (XJerseyGirl)**_

_**Chapter 18: Guessing Games!**_

Steph wanted no part of a New York City hospital. As much as she hated hospitals in general, if she absolutely HAD to go to one, at least at St. Francis there were familiar faces and she wouldn't have to explain to them what happened to her. They accepted each new incident as a normal part of her life, just like she did. What was that song, she thought as she dozed in the back seat of the car, curled up against Hal, his protective arm wrapped around her and her head on his shoulder? Oh yeah … 'Sometimes you wanna go where everybody knows your name.' She sang the song inside her head.

By the time they got half way back to Trenton, Steph was sure that she didn't need a trip to the ER. While her cheek was on fire and she was sure she had the beginnings of a great black eye, she had calmed down and her head was clear. Her heart rate was back to normal and she had pretty much resigned herself to the fact that it didn't matter whether she called herself a bounty hunter or a private investigator or a ballerina, she was still a magnet for trouble. No matter what she did, or where she went, it was going to find her.

All she really wanted to do now was to get into her shower and scrub away the feel of that bastard's hands on her. She needed to brush the enamel off her teeth and gargle with bleach to get rid of the taste of her attacker's tongue in her mouth. She shuddered at the thought of the man. The taste of booze and cigarettes was making her queasy and she hadn't felt this dirty since the last distraction job she had done for Ranger.

She sighed deeply as she looked out the car window where the night flew past as they sped down the Turnpike. Ranger. Some genius told her that the more time that passed, the easier it would be to get on with her life. Well, they were right; she had gone on with her life. But time didn't do anything to diminish that nagging ache she got in her chest every time she thought about him. Maybe, she thought, maybe there was no healing that hurt. Maybe it would be there forever and she'd just have to live with it.

Stephanie leaned back in her seat and thought about Ranger, how she felt about him, how he made her feel, and she wondered if she'd ever feel like that again. She knew that he had been one of a kind and what they had shared had been a once in a lifetime experience. No matter how badly it had ended, she wouldn't have missed it for anything! Today's close call had proven to her that life was short and she had grieved long enough. It was time to start living again. She had wasted enough time looking back at what she lost; it was time to start looking for what she might find ahead.

So maybe it _was_ time to try to move on? S**he'd been single for quite a while now, and she had the same needs as the next person. Granted, she had a new Turbo-action shower massager, but it was more than just that. She was tired of being alone. She had moved on with her life. She had a new job, a new home, new friends, but one very important piece was missing. She missed having someone who knew how to make her sigh, or moan, or laugh … that special someone to share all of those secret things that you whispered to each other when you were in bed, in the dark. **

**She had to admit to herself that she was very attracted to Niko Ramos. Hell! What living, breathing female wouldn't be? After all, he was gorgeous and sexy and funny and gentle and he had taken such good care of her when she was so sick. He took her to Alexander's house to recuperate, he played psychiatrist and gave her a shoulder to cry on when that was all she was capable of doing … crying. She had been a blubbering mess for days and he just held her and wiped her tears. Niko had drawn her out of her shell, dragging her out to the movies and dinner and dancing, and walks on the beach. Then he had kissed her and told her he'd be waiting for her when she was ready to move on. The thought of the possibilities gave her a little thrill that she hadn't felt in a very long time.**

**Yup, she decided, definitely time to move on. Now all she had to do was figure out how! The old insecurities flooded over her. Was he really interested, or was it the doctor in him, telling her what she needed to hear? Her mind was still wrestling with the problem when she realized that they were home.**

Jeanne Ellen pulled Steph's SUV into her parking spot behind the townhouse, Dean pulling the other vehicle right behind them. Hal tried to lift Steph out of the car but quickly backed off when she gave him 'The Look' and announced to the group that she was all better.

"I'm fine! Everybody please go home," she said in exasperation. "I appreciate your concern, but remember, this isn't anything that hasn't happened to me before … it's nothing new and different. A nice long shower and a couple of Advil and I'll be good to go. Can we get together tomorrow morning and decide what we do next?" They all agreed to a breakfast meeting, hugged her good night and left.

Once inside, Steph went directly into her bathroom and stripped, dropping her clothes on the floor and promising herself that she'd burn them the first chance she got. She purposely didn't look into the mirror, not wanting to see the marks her attacker had left on her body. There would be no choice but to see the discolorations on her face, but the bastard had mauled her and thrown her around like a rag doll. She knew that there would be bruises all over her from his hands, and she couldn't bring herself to look at them right now. She reached into the shower and adjusted the temperature of the water then stepped under the spray, just letting the hot water pound her.

Only after she used every drop of hot water that the oversized water heater provided did Steph finally get out of the shower. She had scrubbed and shaved and buffed and shampooed to within an inch of her life in an effort to feel clean again. Taking a fluffy bath towel from the rack next to the shower, she wrapped it around herself tucking the end into her cleavage. She bent over carefully and wrapped her hair in another towel, moving slowly because of the bruising to her shoulder and hip. The hot water had helped to ease the stiffness but she was still going to need massive doses of Advil before this night was over.

She brushed her teeth for the fourth time, and polished off the bottle of Scope from her medicine cabinet before she actually lost the sour taste in her mouth, the result of both the SOB who had tried to stick his tongue down her throat and her own sour stomach. She cringed when she finally looked into the mirror and saw the bruise that had bloomed on her cheek. The black eye wasn't as bad as she thought it would be, she just wished she was into purple eye shadow.

Drying her hair would be tricky. There was no way she could aim a blow drier with one hand and wield a brush with the other, not with the shape her shoulder was in. So she just worked some product through her wet hair and let it air dry. She had to move slowly because her leg and hip were stiffening up from the kick 'Ivan the Terrible' had landed on her. Lifting the towel a bit, she looked in the mirror and made a face at the perfect boot mark he left on the back of her thigh and butt cheek. Swell!

Not wanting to dwell on the damage, she lowered herself carefully onto the little bench with her back to the mirror; she unwrapped the bath towel and poured silky body lotion into her hands. The light scent of vanilla and jasmine filled the room as she massaged it into every inch of skin that she could reach, thinking that she could really use a masseuse right about now.

The shower had helped to relax her tense and aching muscles and by the time she left the bathroom, she realized just how exhausted she was. She looked at her bed and was overcome by the desire to stretch out on it, just for a little while. It only took a few seconds to convince herself and she sprawled, sideways, across her king sized bed. She didn't lie in her thinking position, knowing that her wet hair would dry into bed head, so she lay on her tummy with her unbruised cheek on her hands, and she was out like a light.

"Stephanie… open you eyes, Steph. Come on Sweetheart, look at me," the soft voice called her back from her dreams and she didn't want to let them go. She was lying on the beach and Niko was rubbing suntan lotion onto her back.

She woke slowly, dragging herself up through layers of sleep, trying unsuccessfully to open her eyes; but they just wouldn't cooperate. She felt a gentle hand brushing her hair out of her face, fingers drifting over her back and shoulders. With a deep sigh and a yawn, she finally opened her eyes to Niko's smiling face, hovering over hers.

"Hi, this is a nice surprise," she smiled up at him. Trying to sit up, she winced in pain and flopped back down on the bed. "Oh, I know why you're here," she said with disappointment in her voice. "Who called you, Hal?"

Niko chuckled. "He cares about you, so he worries." He put one knee on the bed and lifted her up, seating her on the edge of the bed. Kneeling in front of her, he examined her throat, pressing gently here and there and asking if she could swallow or had problems breathing.

"Hal's turning into a mother hen! I'm perfectly fine!" Steph said with a sigh.

"Maybe. But that's what I'm here to decide. How'd this happen? Did you get punched or …" He pulled out his pen light and started to examine her eyes as she rolled them.

"Yeah, by a wall. Left, right, up, down, follow your finger … I know the drill. Pupils are equal and reactive. No concussion. See? I'm perfectly fine." She hissed in a sharp breath as Niko examined the black eye. "Ok, so maybe not perfect, but I'm fine."

"Um-huh."

"Ugh! There's that sound again! The one that doesn't mean anything but doubles your fee."

"Well," he said with a smile, as he gently probed the swollen bruise on her cheekbone, "maybe we can negotiate my fee. How about you come with me to visit Alexander this weekend? We could lie out on the beach …"

He started to check out her shoulder, moving her arm slowly and watching her reaction to gauge her discomfort level.

"Ow!" she scrunched up her face at the pain. "It depends on how this case goes. And really, the thought of wearing a bathing suit with this huge bruise on my ass and the finger marks all over me just isn't all that appealing."

"Come on, Steph. Lie down and let me check your hip." He lifted her again and laid her on her side in the middle of the bed and started to lift the edge of the towel.

"Um … that's not necessary, Niko." Steph tried to push his hands away. "It's fine."

"You keep saying that, Steph. I'm a doctor; why are you having such a tough time with me examining you?" He slid his hands up her leg, over her naked skin, to her hip and he felt the shiver that ran through her. Despite the pain it caused, she scooted herself out from under his hands and moved away from him, clutching the towel tightly to keep it from slipping.

"Because I'm having a tough time thinking of you as a doctor!" she blurted out. "When you have your hands on me it doesn't feel clinical it feels …" she stopped, not wanting to put her feelings into words and looked away from him.

He was surprised by her reaction, and he watched her for a minute, then bent down to look into her face. "It feels what, Steph?" he asked softly.

She was leaning up on one elbow, nervously chewing her lip and fingering the edge of the bath towel that was wrapped around her, studying it like it was most important thing in the world. She didn't look at him, just shrugged and shook her head. How did she tell him that he made her feel all hot and bothered? That she had thought about what it would be like to have his mouth and hands on her. How did she tell him that she dreamed about him?

_This was more than embarrassment_, Niko thought_, but what would make her react that way? Fear? Oh God,_ _I hope not._ _She has to know that I'd never do anything to hurt her._ He looked at the angry marks on the swell of her breast. _But maybe …_ "Steph," he said gently, but she still wouldn't look at him.

"Look, Steph, I know that you didn't get those bruises on your throat and breast from hitting a wall," he said, hoping that he was wrong. "Did something happen to you last night that you haven't told me about? Did those guys do more than just man-handle you?"

Her head snapped up and her eyes met his as understanding hit her. "Oh no! I mean Ivan was having a good time groping me, and I don't even want to think about what he was planning to do … but once I smashed him in the face he dropped me an …"

Niko snorted a laugh. "You hit him in the face hard enough to make him let you go?" He asked in surprise.

"Well yeah, with my head. I'm pretty sure I broke his nose," she touched the back of her head, then hurried on. "But it's not like he didn't deserve it. He had his hand up my dress!"

He shook his head in amazement. "Can I check your head?" Niko held out his hand and Steph bent her head down and he ran his hand through her hair, over her scalp. "Hmmm," Steph shot him a narrow-eyed look at the sound and he smiled. "You have a nice bump back here and some localized swelling. Is your neck stiff?"

She nodded, "A little. I was wishing for a masseuse before," and she gave him a wistful smile.

"Your wish is my command, ma'am. Let me help you lie down and I'll be happy to play masseuse for you."

"NO!" She put a hand to her eyebrow and tried to rub the twitch from her eye. She licked her lips and decided to take the bull by the horn, so to speak. "See Niko, here's the thing … this all has me very confused because you keep saying that you're a doctor but then you don't act like one …I mean, we go out and we go dancing … and we have fun and we…kiss …" she took a deep breath, "and I really appreciate you doctoring me and taking care of me, honestly I do, but I don't think about my doctor the way I think about you and I sure don't kiss my doctor the way I kiss you and," she shook her head for emphasis, "... and my doctor makes me nervous and so do you but not in the same way because you seem to have this … doctor switch that you can flip on and off and I don't and you can just become a doctor and go all professional and stuff," she held out her hand and shrugged her shoulders, "and then you put your hands all over me and it feels all impersonal and medical to you but to me it feels more like we … we're _playing _doctor … and I'm having trouble separating the doctor part from the guy part … and, um …" she swallowed hard, "you said that you'd be waiting when I was ready and I was kind of wondering if you were still … waiting, I mean, or what … 'cause I'm … ready …" her voice kind of died out and she bit her lip and fiddled with the towel.

He hesitated a minute, then cleared his throat before he spoke. "So what you're telling me is that you don't know if I'm just interested in you because _I'm_ a doctor, or whether I'm interested in you because _you're_ a woman?"

She fidgeted with the towel some more. "Something like that," she said with a small shrug. She still couldn't look at him.

He smiled to himself, she was adorable with her cheeks all flushed from embarrassment and she was biting those pouty lips and he just wanted to grab her and kiss her breathless. He reminded himself that he had to go slow; he didn't want to scare her off.

She had twisted the corner of the towel around her finger so tightly that the tip was turning blue. Niko reached over and unwrapped her finger, raising her hand to his lips and kissing the tip of her finger. "Let me see what I can do to clarify the situation," he said softly. He kissed her palm and her wrist before he released her hand.

Slowly, he stretched out next to her on the bed and just using the tips of his fingers, raised her chin so that he could look into her beautiful blue eyes. "Doctor Ramos has left the building," he whispered to her and when he saw her smile, he brought his lips to hers in a soft, searching kiss.

Her mind was spinning. They had kissed a lot, she thought, after all, they were friends. They kissed hello and goodbye, usually on the cheek, and then there was the time she had attacked him when he let her drive his Aston Martin. But this was different; this was the first time that they had kissed like lovers, and it was scary.

The kiss broke and he pulled back slightly, he would let her set the pace of this new phase of their relationship. He had been patient this long and had bided his time; he wouldn't ruin things by pressuring her. Right now, she was battered and bruised, and he would put her wants and needs ahead of his own.

Steph put her hand on his cheek, then ran her thumb over his lips and leaned in to kiss him. Her lips were slightly parted and he put his arms around her and lowered them both to the mattress. Threading his fingers through her hair, he fused his mouth to hers and slid his tongue between her parted lips, exploring her sweet mouth.

He pulled back far enough to look at her; she was so easy to read. He saw every emotion she was feeling play across her expressive face… hope, desire, wonder, fear … all there in her eyes. A slow smile spread across his face as he looked at her. She matched it in return. Her fingers curled into his sweater, as she pulled him down to her mouth again.

This kiss was different, deeper and more demanding. They were both breathless when they broke apart but hesitated only a second before their mouths found each other again. It was like floodgates had been opened and they were both stunned by the hunger that overwhelmed them. She wrapped her arms around him and he groaned as she slipped her hands under his sweater, exploring him and scraping her nails over his back and shoulders. She was pulling frantically at the fabric, needing to touch his bare skin, and he leaned away to haul the sweater off and toss it aside.

He kissed her again, greedily, their tongues tangled and hands exploring every inch that they could reach, inflaming them both. He ran wet kisses from her mouth to her jaw, down her neck and over her shoulder. She gasped when his lips skimmed her sensitive neck and he smiled against her skin. She tipped her head to the side in invitation, her eyes drifting shut as she gave herself over to the delicious sensations. He traced small wet circles over the tender spot at the juncture of her neck and shoulder, tasting her with the tip of his tongue and making her shiver, drawing a breathy moan from her and he hardened almost painfully against her.

Niko's mouth moved over her shoulder and down to her collarbone and she watched him with hooded eyes as his hands explored her. They were both panting as he moved over her and settled himself between her thighs. She spread her legs to accommodate him, hampered by the towel that still wrapped her. Bracing himself on his forearms, he framed her face in his hands, then leaned in and feathered light kisses over her face before he captured her mouth again. Kissing her deeply, he stroked her tongue in the same primal rhythm as he rocked his hips against her. Steph slid her hands down his back, her fingers finding their way under the waistband of his trousers as she moved against him, matching his movements.

The corner of the towel that wrapped around her came loose as Niko cupped her breasts, kneading them gently, and she whimpered as he brushed his thumbs over her nipples, pebbled so hard that he could feel them even through the thick towel. He kissed his way from her mouth, down her throat, dipping his tongue into the hollow at the base, lower still to scrap his teeth over her collarbones and stopping to nip and gently suck on the swell of her breasts.

She could feel his hard length pressed against her and knew that he wanted her as much as she wanted him. She writhed under him, trying to get him where she needed him to be. Fisting one hand into his hair to hold his hot mouth on her cool flesh, she curled the fingers of her other hand into his muscled back, digging her nails into him. She wanted nothing more than to have him buried in her, filling the emptiness that she had felt for so long.

He could feel her breath catch in anticipation as he slowly peeled back the top of the towel to reveal her breasts and he placed soft, gentle, open mouthed kisses on the sweet skin between them. It was only then, in the dim lamplight, that he saw the angry purple bruises that covered her. Very gently, he ran the tips of his fingers over her breasts and placed a small kiss, first on one nipple and then the other. He closed his eyes and rested his forehead in the valley between her breasts, taking a deep breath and breathing it out slowly.

Steph, sensing the change in him, grabbed a handful of his hair and pulled his head up so she could look into his face. "What?" she demanded. "What's wrong? Why did you stop?" Her confusion evident.

He took another deep breath and rolled off of her and sat up, gently pulling the towel back over her breasts and tucking the end in securely. She tried to sit up and gasped as her sore muscles protested the sudden movement.

"That's what's the matter, Sweetheart. You're already in pain, and I don't want to hurt you more, physically or emotionally. I want this to be right for both of us, no guilty consciences, and no morning-after regrets, no remorse. I don't want this to just be a heat of the moment thing. I need you to be sure that this is what you want, that I'm who you want. I can't be a temporary patch on your broken heart."

Steph rolled over on the bed and curled up with her back to him, covering her face with her hands to hide the tears that stung her eyes. She had made a fool of herself; he didn't want her after all and now he was trying to walk away gracefully. She should have known better. Here she was, hair all wild, no makeup, damaged, another man's handprints all over her … how could she have been so stupid? Who would want her like this? She bit the inside of her cheek, trying to save herself the added humiliation of having him know that she was crying.

"Steph …"

She hesitated before she answered him, hoping that she could control her voice. "It's okay, Niko. I think you better just go... I understand."

Niko leaned over and picked her up, pushing back to lean against the headboard, cradling her in his lap. He pulled her hands away from her face and fisted his hand in her hair, pulling her head back, forcing her to look into his eyes. His voice was thick and ragged with emotion. "Don't think for a second, that I don't want you, because I do, more than you'll ever know. I want to bury myself in you and hear you say my name while I make love to you. I want to watch your face when I make you come. I want you to taste yourself on my mouth when I kiss you and I want you to get wet when you think about me. I want you to ache for me the same way I do for you and when we put out that fire, I don't want there to be any doubts in your mind. Do you understand me, Stephanie? I want all or nothing."

His mouth crashed down on hers in an almost brutal kiss and she matched his passion. Their tongues battled and when she sucked his into her mouth, she felt a shudder pass through him. He tore at the towel that covered her, pulling it down to her waist and she finally had what she had wanted so badly, skin to skin contact. She turned to straddle him and when she brushed her nipples over his naked chest and he growled low in his throat.

She knelt up, bracing herself on his shoulders and pressed a nipple against his lips. Niko put his hands on her back and pulled her against him and she gave a small cry as he sucked her nipple. Throwing her head back, she arched into him, offering more of herself to his mouth. She whimpered as he released her and dragged his open mouth across her chest to capture the other nipple and torture it as well.

Back and forth, first one breast and then the other, he licked and sucked and nipped until she was trembling so hard that if he hadn't been holding her so tightly, she would have fallen over. Finally, he laid her down on the bed.

"I want you," she almost sobbed against his mouth as her hands searched out his belt buckle, tugging it open, and then attacking the button and zipper on his pants. She slid her hands under the waistband stroked his hard length, then pushed his pants down around his hips. He kicked them off and his mouth fused with hers as he started to settle himself between her open thighs.

The fierce pounding on the bedroom door startling them both and Hal's voice bellowed, "Steph … Steph! We need you out here NOW! There's been a major clusterfuck with the Thrasher case. Hurry up, we have to leave ASAP! Get dressed, and I do mean 'dressed'!"

Niko groaned and collapsed on the bed while Steph ran her hands through her hair in frustration. "Nooooooooooo!" she mouthed silently. Niko's pager chose that very moment to go off, and he leaned over the edge of the bed to grab it out of his pants pocket. He checked the readout and shook his head, looking at Steph with a rueful smile. "The gods are against us, Sweetheart." He held up his pager, "Got an emergency, I have to go, too."

They looked at each other and started to laugh. Niko stood and Steph watched while quickly pulled on his clothes. He leaned over her, lying on the bed and kissed her deeply. "If anyone had ever told me that I would be walking away from a gorgeous, naked woman who wanted me, I would have checked them for brain damage!" he said with a smile, before helping Steph up off the bed. "Be careful, I don't want you to need Doctor Ramos anymore!" He kissed her once more and was gone.

Steph headed for her closet and her gun safe to get 'dressed'.

Hal followed Niko to the front door and grabbed him by the arm, pulling him around to face him. "What the hell do you think you're doing, moving in on Ranger's woman?" Hal ground out through gritted teeth.

Niko fisted his hands in anger. "He threw her away like garbage before he left! He didn't want her! Remember I was there when he threw her out. I saw her in the middle of the street, in the pouring rain. I saw her get hit by that car … I wiped away her blood and her tears, Hal. He has no right to her!"

"You don't know that …" Hal shut his mouth tightly. His anger had almost gotten the better of him. He put his hands on his hips and looked at the floor. "I don't want to see her hurt again, that's all."

"I'm different than Manoso, Hal. I wouldn't sacrifice her for whatever it is that he's involved in. Shit! I'll bet that you don't even know if he's still alive or not … do you?" When Hal didn't answer Niko nodded his head, "Didn't think so." Niko pulled the door open and went halfway down the front steps before he stopped and turned back to look at the big man who almost filled the doorway. "I give you my word, Hal. I won't hurt her. And I won't let anybody else hurt her either."

Hal nodded at Niko in understanding and watched him leave. He locked the door and set the alarm before he went back into the living room where Steph and Dean and were waiting for him.

"What's going on, Hal?" Steph checked her Glock before she clipped the holster to the waistband of her slacks.

"Barton Thrasher just received a ransom demand for Zoë. They want five million dollars for her safe return." Dean said.

Steph let out a long, low whistle. 'He call in the cops or the Feds yet?"

Hal shook his head. "The caller said not to or he'd get a package with her head in it."

"Did they give instructions for the exchange?" The two men exchanged a look.

Hal took a deep breath. "Yeah." He cleared his throat and shifted uncomfortably.

She waited for him to continue, but when he didn't, "Well? What? You're scaring me! Hal, what is it?"

"The caller said to tell you that he wants to finish what he started this afternoon. He wants you to deliver the ransom, Steph."

RSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSR

On the other side of the country, a small commuter jet touched down on a landing strip out in the middle of nowhere. The door opened and the stairs unfolded, allowing the three passengers to deplane. Two Federal Marshals escorted the prisoner who walked with a noticeable limp. Despite his disability, his hands were cuffed, the manacles attached to the chain around his waist. His feet were shackled, allowing him only to take small steps. If the Marshals hadn't held him up, he would have fallen.

When he stood still, there was no sign of his handicap; he had worked hard to minimize the aftereffects of the stroke he'd had.

He had finally been released from the Northwestern Federal Medical and Rehabilitation Center where he had been treated after the stroke. Now he was on his way back to the Federal Penitentiary where he had spent that past several years of his life.

He only had a few more weeks to go on his sentence and then he could get back to his real life. He missed the finer things that couldn't be had in prison, clothing, food, fast women and faster cars. But they were all waiting for him on the outside. He was still able to run his organization from the inside, the Feds were too stupid to realize what was in all those coded letters that he sent, hell, he even got one of the nurses to write them for him while he was hospitalized. Dumb bitch. He would move his organization to the East Coast and he would pick up his life where he had left off.

He just had a few little details that he needed to clean up first. His woman, she gave the Feds everything they needed to convict him. Granted it had only been on tax evasion, but still, he would need to punish her. He had been looking forward to that. He knew that the stuck-up society cunt only stayed with him for the unlimited supply of drugs, she had probably stuffed a million dollars worth up her nose by now. But she had no idea that he knew she had sold him out.

She didn't like pain … He had lain awake at night, planning his revenge against her. Maybe he'd cut off little pieces of her … like her nipples or her lips or cut out her lying tongue. "I love you, Ramon. I need you, Ramon. I miss you, Ramon!" The thought of her screaming in pain made him get hard. Maybe he'd fuck her while he was cutting her. Then he'd send her back to his country and have her put in a whorehouse in some dirt poor town. The thought of that prissy bitch being laid by farm workers made him laugh out loud. He would enjoy his revenge.

But the one that he would enjoy most, the one he would take care of personally, was the mother-fucking doctor. That son of a bitch cosmetic surgeon who had operated on his face, trying to remove the scar. He hadn't made it any better, but they had experimented on him like he was a lab rat. The prison doctor said that he was part of an inmate program. That scars and deformities kept inmates from being successful in the 'legal' world. Fucking idiots! Did they really think that Ramon Escobar wanted to go straight? What job would he work? A used car salesman? He chuckled to himself. He could sell insurance, or appliances. He snorted. They had no idea who they were dealing with, but soon, soon, they would all find out. Maybe that doctor should lose his eyes? Maybe he has a wife or a girlfriend? Ramon smiled at the thought. Yes, he would find something that belonged to that bastard and make it not so pretty anymore.

Well, Ramon thought to himself, all the hard decisions have been made. All I have to do is to sit back and relax and wait. In a few weeks, I will put my plans into action. I have waited a long time to have my fun.

A yank on his arm brought Ramon out of his thoughts and back to the landing strip where they waited for the van that would take him back to the Penitentiary. It was pulling to a stop in front of them and a prison guard stepped out of the passenger seat and signed the papers for the transfer of the prisoner. The two marshals help Ramon hobble over to the back doors of the van which the driver had unlocked. A second set of steel doors was only opened when Ramon was standing right in front of them. The marshals helped him into the back and he sat on one of the bench seats that ran down both sides of the back of the van.

It took him a second to adjust to the dim light, and he realized that there was another prisoner sitting on the bench opposite him. The man was turned away from him, sitting with his head down, long black hair hiding his face.

"Hey! You headed for the Pen?" Ramon asked. The man nodded his head slowly but didn't raise it.

"You in for a long haul?" He shook his head 'No'.

"You're not very friendly are you? You might want to show me some respect. I can make your life inside much easier."

The other man didn't respond.

"My name is Ramon Escobar. Maybe you have heard of me?"

The man nodded slowly.

"So what is your name, my friend?" Ramon said with a smirk.

The man slowly turned to Ramon and replied, "Ramon Escobar."

When the man raised his head, Ramon Escobar's eyes widened in shock as he looked into his own face. He barely felt the prick of the needle as it sank into his neck.

Ranger and Stephanie had been friends, lovers, and partners.

He had been gone four weeks, two days, twenty-one hours, and fifty-four minutes.

_**TBC …**_

_**A/N: Thank you to all the wonderful readers who feed my need for reviews. So, do you think that Steph and Niko should 'do the deed'? Would that be cheating on Ranger? Is it time for Ranger to come back into the story? Please leave me a review and let me know what you think.**_


	20. Memory!

_**Disclaimer: Everyone belongs to Janet Evanovich except the ones that are mine, and I'm just playing.**_

_**Warnings: Angst, All 12 books, Sappiness.**_

_**A/N: Karen, smooches Girlfriend! Thank you for putting up with me! **_

_**Thank you to all of you wonderful readers and reviewers. Please keep the reviews coming, Ranger says that if you want more of him in each chapter, well … you know what you have to do! The care and feeding of the male ego! Yeesh! **_

_**Don't forget to read Kashy's "Keep The Faith" … you don't want to miss it! Read and review it please, you'll be glad you did!**_

_**The Name Of The Game!**_

_**By Stayce (XJerseyGirl)**_

_**Chapter 18: Memory!**_

Stephanie flexed her fingers on the steering wheel of her SUV. She was on her way to the RangeMan building and her nerves were showing. Barton Thrasher's daughter had disappeared and now that a ransom demand had been made, he still refused to call in the police or any Federal authority. Steph and the team simply weren't equipped to handle this kind of high stakes rescue; they didn't have the manpower or the firepower. But RangeMan did and Steph was on her way to try to enlist their help.

Steph pulled up to the gate at the RangeMan parking garage and stopped. She didn't bother with using the security phone to call the control room; she knew that they would be watching for her. She had an appointment with Tank and wanted to keep this meeting as professional as possible. She really hadn't thought that it would affect her, coming here after all this time. She had even rolled her eyes at Hal when he offered to come along with her. That just proved how wrong she could be.

This first trip back to the familiar building was nerve wracking. Without even realizing it, she had mapped out routes that had avoided bringing her anywhere near the building, or even the street and she hadn't so much as driven past since that last day here. Today, the closer she got, the sharper the ache in her chest became. The ache was always there but she had almost gotten to the point where she could ignore it … the pain of her broken heart, she supposed. Taking a deep breath, she loosened the death grip she had on the steering wheel, shaking her hands again before putting them back.

Silently, the heavy gate swung open, but she couldn't seem to take her foot off the brake and drive through. She sat there, frozen, staring into the dim interior of the garage at the sea of black RangeMan vehicles, at Ranger's truck and the Turbo. She was hit by an overwhelming wave of emotion that washed over her and threatened to drown her. Like a movie playing out in front of her, she saw herself with Ranger the day he gave her the Miata, she saw herself dragging him off to 'christen' his new 'Devil Truck', she saw him lift her out of the Porsche and carry her to the elevators, she saw him pin her to the wall and kiss her senseless. She could see him smile at her, watch his eyes darken with lust and turn black when he came, the corners crinkle in amusement, the lines softened in sleep. She could see him in front of her, hear his voice whisper her name, feel his arms around her, the smell of him, the taste of him in her mouth … A sob escaped her and she realized that tears were slipping down her cheeks. _Oh God! I can't do this!_ she thought.

Without thinking, she slammed the SUV into reverse and floored it out of the driveway. Blinded by her tears, she swung back into the street, narrowly missing an oncoming car, its horn blaring as it careened around her. She threw the vehicle into drive and flew down the street, away from RangeMan as fast as she could go. Screeching around the next corner, she pulled to the curb and wiped her face with shaking hands. Try as she might, she couldn't seem to draw a deep breath around the huge lump in her throat and she just leaned her forehead on the steering wheel, trying to calm herself. Her physical reaction to being there again was so strong, so unexpected, that it took a few minutes for her to regroup.

Finally, she sat up. She could do this! She had to do this! She found a Kleenex in the bottom of her bag and wiped her eyes and blew her nose. She turned the rearview mirror and groaned when she caught sight of her watery eyes and bright red nose. Pulling out her makeup bag, she found her compact. She rarely used powder but the occasion called for it, and when she added another coat of mascara (God bless the guy who invented waterproof) and some lip gloss, she was almost passable. She fluffed her hair and gave herself one last look in the mirror, before she started the SUV, drove around the block, and parked across the street from the RangeMan building.

Steph collected her purse and her laptop, took a deep breath, and walked to the front door. This is what she should have done in the first place, she scolded herself. If there was a Queen of Denial contest, she'd take the crown. How the hell had she managed to convince herself that coming back to RangeMan wouldn't be any different than a trip to the Tasty Pastry? There was obviously a fine line between denial and stupidity, and she had finally crossed it.

By the time she got to the front door, a smiling Ram was holding it open for her. He scooped her into his brawny arms and enveloped her in a hug that almost lifted her off the floor. So much for cool, impersonal professionalism, Steph thought, as she hugged him back. The elevator opened and Lester, Bobby, and Tank got off, only to be shoved aside by Ella, who wrapped Steph in her arms and kissed her on both cheeks. The small woman had tears in her eyes as she took a step back from Steph, telling her that she was too pale and too thin. Ella handed her off to Bobby who hugged and kissed her, then it was Tank's turn, and finally Lester, who wrapped his arm around her waist and walked her over to the elevator.

Steph fought to keep her composure, knowing that there would be more Merry Men waiting upstairs. Seeing them again was bittersweet and tears were stinging her eyes. The doors opened on the fifth floor and Steph steeled herself before she stepped out. She was swept away into a sea of smiling faces and pulled into the Control Room. She smiled and made small talk, promising to meet for lunch or go to Pino's or Shorty's. Soon all the guys made their way back to work and she just stood and looked around her. Everything looked exactly the same but felt totally different. Something was missing, and she knew just what that was … Ranger.

She drew a ragged breath and turned to find Tank watching her. "Do you want to go to into the office or would you be more comfortable in the conference room?" he said softly.

"The conference room, if you don't mind. I don't think I could …" She looked away from him toward the office that would always be Ranger's, no matter who sat behind the desk.

Tank put his hand on the small of her back, guided her into the conference room and seated her at the middle of the table, taking a seat across from her. She wondered if he purposely didn't sit at the head of the table, taking what would have been Ranger's seat.

"I owe you an apology, Bombshell." Tank folded his arms on the table and leaned forward. "I should have realized how difficult it would be for you to come here. I should have suggested meeting somewhere else when you called."

Steph cleared her throat in embarrassment. "Yeah, well, I guess you saw my little panic attack in the driveway." She shrugged and fiddled with the zipper on her laptop case. "I didn't realize that it would be so overwhelming to come back."

"Can I do anything to help make it easier?"

She looked at Tank wistfully and whispered. "Give me a miracle, Tank,"she whispered. "Turn back the clock and let me undo whatever it was that I did wrong, let me have another chance." She looked away as tears stung her eyes.

Tank came around the table and squatted in front of her, offering Steph his perfectly ironed and folded linen handkerchief. She took it and pressed it to her eyes. "I would if I could, Bombshell. Neither one of you deserved this." The big man placed his hand on her cheek and she leaned into it, accepting his comfort.

After a minute, she took a deep breath and sat up straight. "Okay Tank, I'm wasting time. I have a problem and I need RangeMan's help if you're willing to get involved in this." When Tank nodded, she unzipped the case and slid out her laptop, powered it up, and opened the photo of Zoë that the kidnappers had sent to her father.

"This picture came just before I called you. As soon as we saw it we realized that we were out of our league." She turned the laptop so Tank could see the screen. The photo was chilling. Zoë, gagged and blindfolded, was seated in a wooden chair in a dark room. A single, naked light bulb hung from the ceiling over her head, illuminating the scene. Zoë was tied to the chair with a heavy rope that wrapped around her arms, legs, chest and shoulders and a copy of today's New York Times was propped in her lap. The thick rope was looped around her neck, restricting her movement and she looked unconscious … or dead. Behind her stood three men, their faces covered by hoods, each holding an automatic weapon aimed directly at Zoë's head.

Tank took one look and called Bobby and Lester asking them to come to the conference room immediately. The security and private investigation community in Trenton was a small and close one. Everybody pretty much knew what everybody else was involved in. It wasn't a matter of gossip, just having a finger on the pulse of the industry. RangeMan had a general knowledge of what Steph and her team were working on, not the details of course, but that they had been hired to find Barton Thrasher's missing daughter.

It seemed like less than a minute when the two men walked into the conference room and took seats at the table. Tank turned to Steph and gave her the floor. She quickly brought them up to speed on the situation, the search for Zoë, the information collected in Brighton Beach and her assault by 'Ivan', and her request for RangeMan to come on board.

"We called in Randy Briggs to bug the phones at Thrasher's house and offices as soon as we accepted the case," Steph told them. "At that point we weren't sure if it was a kidnapping or whether Zoë was a runaway, but we needed to cover all the angles." The guys nodded in agreement. "Late last night, the ransom demand came in."

She played the tape for them and the three men sat and listened carefully, playing it over several times.

"They want five million dollars in one hundred dollar bills, and they want _you_ to deliver it? I guess they don't realize that it weighs as much as you do!" Lester snorted.

"Or how bulky that is!" Bobby added.

"I want to know why they didn't go for a wire transfer to an off shore account?" Tank asked, looking at Steph.

"I'm pretty sure that's my fault," Steph admitted. "The guy on the tape is the same one who jumped me yesterday. I'm sure of it," she told them when she saw the raised eyebrows. "I kinda smashed up his face and I think he wants revenge."

The three men looked at each other. "Excuse us for a minute, Slugger. We need to talk this over, okay?" They stood to leave.

"No, you guys stay here. I need to use the rest room and then I'll wait out on the floor." She picked up her purse and left the conference room.

Steph finished quickly, washing her hands and reapplying her lip gloss, trying to kill time. She stepped out into the hall and walked slowly past the Control Room, returning the smiles and waves that the Merry Men gave her. She stopped in front of the storage room that the guys had converted into a little office for her. The name plate holder next to the door was empty and she couldn't help herself, she reached out and turned the knob.

She slowly pushed the door open and leaned against the frame, not being able to make herself step inside. All these little glimpses into her old life were playing havoc with her emotions. The silk plant still stood in the corner; the glass fish still floated in their bowl, the computer with the bare chested Merry Men screen saver still sat on the desk, waiting to be booted up.

Her eyes lingered on the framed picture of the sun setting behind the island of Moorea, taken just at that moment when the whole world turned golden. She and Ranger had been golden then, too. She thought about the pearl, how beautiful it had been, how it had told their story, and she wondered what had happened to the necklace, to the pearl, their pearl … She quickly turned away … the whole room was a freeze frame of her lost life.

She was about to flee when a pair of arms snaked around her from behind and gently pulled her back against a broad chest. Lester pressed a gentle kiss onto her temple. "You don't look like you're doing too well, Beautiful. Tell me the truth, how are you really?" He said softly.

Steph hesitated a few seconds, trying to get her emotions under control. "Until I pulled into the driveway I had myself convinced that I was doing okay, Les. I would have told you that I had gotten past all this and that I was getting on with my life," she said sadly. "Now I realize that all this time I've been … in limbo." She turned to look at him. "It's like I'm alive but I'm not really living, like I have an existence but not a life. I don't feel things like I used to …I'm not happy, not sad, it's like I'm floating somewhere in between. Nothing tastes as good or looks as good or feels as good as it did when …" She couldn't go on.

She drew a ragged breath. "When he told me that he didn't love me anymore, I felt like something in me died. And when I heard that he was gone, I was sure of it." She rested her head on his shoulder and he leaned his cheek against the top of her head and rocked her gently. "I have to keep reminding myself that even before he died, he didn't love me anymore."

Steph didn't notice that Tank and Bobby were standing behind them. Her voice was barely a whisper, but they had heard what she had said. The look they exchanged said it all; they would have given anything to take away the pain that they had helped cause her. The only emotion that Tank displayed was the muscle that worked in his clinched jaw, but Bobby looked sick and he ran his hands over his face as he turned and stalked off. Tank cleared his throat and Steph raised her head to look at the men. Her cheeks turned deep pink when she realized that she had been crying all over Lester's shoulder. "Oh man, and I was going for cool and professional!" she quipped, making them smile.

Tank grabbed her hand and strode back to the conference room, forcing Steph to trot along after him to keep up. "Well, if we're gonna team up, you better call your people and get them over here now." He stopped short and Steph almost ran into him. "You understand that RangeMan will take the lead on this, correct?" Steph nodded. "Good! Bobby will put a RangeMan team together and issue weapons and equipment. Lester will arrange communications and transportation. Once we get everyone assembled, I'll work out the tactical aspects."

The combined team assembled at RangeMan in record time, meeting in the conference room. Ella bustled in and out bringing lunch for everyone, placing an extra plate, covered by a small silver dome in front of Steph and handing her a dessert fork. Everyone at the table grinned as she rolled here eyes and moaned at the first bite of strawberry shortcake. "What?" she snorted. "Life is short, eat dessert first!"

Steph felt a small pang of guilt as she watched Hal fit seamlessly back in with his RangeMan brotherhood. She knew he enjoyed working with his new team, but this looked like a homecoming. But for his support of her, she thought, Hal would still be here at RangeMan, where he belonged. The guys didn't seem to harbor any hard feelings against him, and her self appointed body guard looked happier and more relaxed than she had seen him in a long time. He seemed to realize that she was watching him, and when he turned to look at her, she smiled and winked at him, and he beamed in return.

Lunch was almost finished when Steph's cell phone rang. The caller ID only said 'unknown name' but her spidey sense jumped into overdrive. Steph held up her hand for silence and every eye was on her. She pushed the speaker phone button and answered, "Hello."

"This is Stephanie Plum?" a heavily accented woman's voice whispered.

"Yes it is, and who is this?" Steph answered. Her calm voice belied her flip-flopping stomach.

"I am Irena Kirenkova." She hesitated for a long few seconds. "I know where they hide Zoë. I tell you and you must take her back to her father."

"Tell me where she is and I'll come right away," Steph told her.

"No, not now! You come at night so they don't see. Then they don't know I told and they don't hurt my Sonya." The fear in the woman's voice was all too apparent.

"Alright, tell me when and where and I'll be there."

"Nine o'clock. You walk on the boardwalk, outside the amusement park. I find you. You come alone. Please, do not tell no one … they will hurt my Sonya if they find out." Steph could hear the woman's voice crack.

"Alright," she said. "I'll be there at nine and …" Irena had already hung up.

Steph closed her phone and looked at Tank. "So, waddaya think?"

"I think we need a command center in Coney Island." He turned and looked at Scott, Junior, and Cal. "You know the drill, saddle up and find us a place on the boardwalk and near the park, I don't care what you have to do to secure it." The guys took off out the door. "Lester, let's get Steph and the rest of the team equipped. We need to get into Brooklyn while it's still daylight so we can scout the area. I wish to God we had some idea of where the kid was being held." Tank called for street maps of Coney Island and Brighton Beach.

As if in answer to his prayer, the conference room door slammed open and God's most unlikely emissary, Randy Briggs, sauntered in. For a little person, he always made a big entrance. "Hey Red," he yelled at Jeanne Ellen, "you and Curly come here. I got a surprise for you!"

Jeanne and Steph narrowed their eyes at him. "Get over yourself, Randy! We employ you, we don't have put up with your mouth."

"Ha! When you find out what I have here," he patted his laptop, "you'll be begging to put up with my mouth!"

The two women looked at one another and grimaced. "I know I'm gonna regret saying this, but show me what you got!" Steph groaned.

Randy grinned and booted up his computer. "Listen and learn, grasshoppers! We have now got three, count 'em, three phone calls from the kidnappers."

They all stood quietly while Randy played the calls. "That's Ivan, the guy from the stairway," Steph said calmly as the first call was played. She turned pale when he started talking about wanting her to deliver the ransom and their 'unfinished business'. Hal stepped up beside her and slung his arm around her shoulders, giving her a quick hug.

Randy played the second call and they heard Thrasher demand to talk to Zoë. He wouldn't pay a dime, he thundered, unless they proved to him that she was alive and well. In the background they could hear the sounds of a crowd and whistles … lifeguards, the kidnappers were calling from the beach. "Now hear this!" Randy crowed. "Exactly 8 minutes and forty-seven seconds later … ta-daaaah … Zoë Thrasher, talking to her father!"

This time they heard music and arcade noises in the background. The dead give-away was a strange whooshing noise, recognizable to anyone who had every heard it before … the signature sound of 'The Cyclone' … the world famous roller coaster at the amusement park in Coney Island.

"The good news is that this confirms the location were Irena wants to meet you, Steph." Lester said.

Yeah," Hal agreed, his arm still around Steph. "If we can only get to Zoë first, you won't ever have to deal with Ivan or the ransom." He gave her a smile and a squeeze.

She looked up at him, "We can hope!" It was hard to be positive when you had butterflies the size of crows flapping around in your stomach and she gave him a weak smile.

Quarter to nine that night found Steph walking along the boardwalk, ice cream cone in hand. There weren't many people on this part of the boardwalk, most were still in the amusement park. She passed a couple, necking on a bench, who looked suspiciously like Lester and Jeanne. A wino who bore a striking resemblance to Cal was bedding down in the doorway of an abandoned building, securing his shopping cart for the night. Farther along, two surf fishers were standing under a light, untangling a fishing reel … Dean and Junior. She knew that there were other team members strategically positioned to watch her every move, she just couldn't see them. She was wearing a wire and an ear piece and she could hear everything that was being said and more importantly, they could hear her.

A cool mist was rolling in from the ocean creating foggy halos around the lights, billowing across the boardwalk, and coupled with the music and noises from the park, it gave the whole scene a creepy feel. Steph turned and started back toward the park. Even with all the surveillance on her, she felt more than a little uncomfortable walking down this deserted stretch all alone. Her nerves had been stretched to the limit today, what with her trip back to RangeMan, and she put her hand on her hip where the heavy weight of her gun giving her a small sense of security.

She checked her watch, almost nine, and scanned the boardwalk again. As she slowly walked past an old, closed up arcade, a small sound caught her attention. Irena Kirenkova stood in the dark between the buildings and motioned Stephanie to come with her. Steph turned to make sure that her team was watching and saw Lester stand up, giving her a subtle nod. Irena appeared to be alone, but Steph made sure that her hand was wrapped firmly around her gun before she stepped into the darkness.

Irena grabbed Steph's hand and tugged her down the alley, looking behind them to make sure that no one was following. "Where are we going?" Steph whispered, more for the team members who were listening than expecting an answer from Irena as they moved quickly down the narrow passage. Irena didn't answer, just kept leading her behind the buildings that ran parallel to the boardwalk.

After a minute or two she stopped at the end of the alleyway. Straight ahead of them loomed a construction site. Huge concrete boxes were stacked on top of each other like a giant sized Hollywood Squares set. The building was at least ten stories high and was obviously in the early stages of construction. An open construction elevator ran up one side of the building and lights on the top of the building threw puddles of light onto the ground. The fog drifted in front of the lights and curled around the building. If the mist made the boardwalk look spooky, it made this place look the set of a slasher movie.

Off to the side there were two trailers which probably housed offices and the entire site was filled with all kinds of trucks and equipment, building materials and tools, all surrounded by a chain link fence topped by razor wire. _Great!_ Steph thought. _Easy access!_

Irena pointed to the shell of the building. "Zoë is there." She held up five fingers to indicate the fifth floor.

Steph turned to look where Irena pointed. "Do you know where?" Steph asked, but the woman had vanished and Steph was standing there alone. Lester's voice crackled in her ear piece, reporting that Irena was walking down the boardwalk toward Brighton Beach.

Steph whispered that she was going to walk the fence line to see if she could find an access point into the construction site that wouldn't require her climbing a ten foot high fence or wrestling with razor wire. She hadn't gone more than a few feet when she found a place where the fence had been cut along one of the support poles and was held closed with twist ties. She was going to remove a couple of the ties and slip inside the fence, when the door of one of the trailers opened and light flooded out. A uniformed guard came down the stairs, flashlight in hand, and started to walk toward her, shining the beam up and down the fence.

Steph stepped back into the shadows and pressed herself against the side of the building, looking around for a hiding place. Tank's dark form separated itself from the shadows and moved toward her, grabbing her by the shoulders and spinning her to face the building, then lifting her by the waist. From above, Bobby's hands reached down and grasped her under the arms, hauling her up onto the flat roof and pushing her to lie down while he helped Tank back up. When Steph raised her head to watch them, Bobby pushed her back down again and all three lay flat and silent as the guard passed right where she had been standing.

With his hand still on the back of her head, Bobby watched the guard make his rounds, not letting her up until the man was on the far side of the building. Steph smacked Bobby on the arm and gave him a death glare, but he just grinned at her. The guard walked the perimeter, checking the fence and the locks on the gates. He shined his light over the stacks of supplies and equipment, looking into the trucks and around the machinery. He thoroughly checked the entire site, but didn't go into the building. Twelve minutes after he walked out of the trailer, he went back inside.

Bobby and Steph sat on the roof waiting for the guard to make his rounds again. If he patrolled on a regular schedule they would know how long they had to get in, find Zoë, and get out without being discovered. None of them wanted a shoot out or a show down while they were trying to get the girl out of danger. Tank took off to rendezvous with the rest of the team, to finalize their plan of action. At precisely 10:15pm, the guard made his rounds again, taking exactly twelve minutes, again not going into the building. They would have forty-eight minutes for the rescue.

Bobby helped Steph off the roof and they followed the fence around to the far side of the building, away from the trailers, where they met up with Hal and Junior. The rest of the team maintained their positions out on the boardwalk, watching for uninvited guests and prepared to provide backup if needed. Hal handed Steph her gear and helped her tighten the straps on her Kevlar vest. She hung the night vision goggles around her neck and strapped on her utility belt.

She was so ready to get going that she was practically bouncing on the balls of her feet. Private investigation was fine, if a little tame compared to the physical aspects of bounty hunting. She was realizing it was one of the parts she missed. Okay, she admitted, it was the only part of bounty hunting that she missed.

Tank and Bobby each took a deep breath and decided to bite the bullet. "Steph, can we talk to you for a minute?" Tank put his hand on her shoulder and walked her over to Bobby who was standing a few feet away from the other guys.

She looked at them expectantly. "Okay, but hurry up. The guard is due for his stroll in a couple of minutes."

"Steph, Bombshell …" Tank started, then seemed at a loss for words.

"Look Slugger, here's the thing. We don't want you to go into the building." When he saw the expression on her face, he held up his hand in a universal 'stop' gesture. "Let me finish. We don't know what we're gonna find in there. There could be guards, booby traps, Zoë could be … well, anything is possible. We just want you to be safe."

Steph was bordering on full blown rhino mode! "If I were still at RangeMan, there wouldn't be any question about me going in there. You two wouldn't even THINK about trying to keep me out!" Steph practically hissed at them. "I did all the legwork! Irena called ME to get Zoë, not you! And I gave her my word that I would take her back to her father. I assured Barton Thrasher that I would bring his daughter home to him; I'm not going back on my word. I'll stay with one of you every minute; I'll do whatever you tell me to do. But make no mistake about it … with you or without you, I am going in there!"

Bobby and Tank looked at each other and shrugged, "We had to try." Tank stuck a finger in Steph's face, "But try to go off on your own and I'll hang you by your vest from the razor wire. You stick to us like glue! Got it?"

"Aye, aye Captain!" She gave him a smart ass salute.

As soon as the guard completed his 11:15 rounds, Hal and Junior lifted the bottom of the fence, allowing Tank, Bobby, and Steph to roll under it. The trio sprinted, one at a time, across the open work area toward the building. The stuck to the deepest shadows or concealed themselves behind equipment or materials. Bobby crouched behind a large piece of construction machinery and accidentally knocked over a length of pipe that fell with a metallic clang.

The guys melted back into the darkness and Steph crouched behind a stack of two by fours, waiting to see if they had been heard. Sure enough, the guard opened the trailer door and stepped out. He stood there listening but when he didn't hear anything else, he went back inside. Steph breathed a sigh of relief when she heard Bobby give an "All clear!" over her ear piece.

With her heart racing, Steph ran the last hundred yards across the open area into the first floor. She crouched down behind one of the huge concrete support pillars inside the building and waited for the guys to catch up. She leaned her forehead against the cool concrete and was working to calm her erratic breathing when an odd tapping noise made her freeze. Holding her breath, she slowly turned her head toward the sound. Now she knew why the guard didn't come into the building. Right behind her stood two snarling Doberman Pinchers, heads down, hackles raised, teeth bared, ready to attack …

RSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRS

Ramon Escobar sat on the gurney in the examining room of the hospital ward in the Federal penitentiary. He would serve out the last months of his three year sentence here. The new prison doctor had gone over his medical records with a fine tooth comb and had declared Ramon fit to return to the general prison population. Ramon had a new work assignment in the library in consideration of his physical limitations due to the stroke, as well as a single prisoner cell for security purposes. He would be allowed the use of the fitness center for one hour a day, but only to continue with his physical therapy exercises. Other than that, the doctor said, he shouldn't expect any special considerations. He would spend the next two days in the hospital unit while the staff completed his medical workup and made sure that there were no problems with his meds.

Ramon had to smile to himself; the doctor had to be new to the prison system. Almost anything, legal or illegal, could be had on the inside. You just had to know the right palms to grease. He had already had an audience with Robert Wilmott, the Prison Superintendent, who had reminded Ramon of their previous arrangement, just in case the stroke had affected his memory. Of course he bumped his price to twenty-five grand a month, for the special services that his prison provided for Ramon. Wilmott flipped through a stack of letters as he spoke, the implication being that without payment, mail would be withheld. The Superintendent was well aware that Ramon ran his organization through coded letters, and he didn't seem to care what illegal activities were arranged, as long as he was paid, and paid well.

He studied Wilmott and wondered if the man could really be as stupid as he acted. He had no idea how lucky he was that the Ramon he was speaking to was a kinder and gentler version than the one he had dealt with before. The old Ramon wouldn't have tolerated being cheated like that and would have simply slit Wilmott's throat, the consequences be damned.

One of the guards escorted him to the cell in the hospital ward. The man dumped the contents of Ramon's small duffle onto the bed. It had already been searched, but this guy made a show of picking through everything, obviously looking for something interesting to confiscate and hold for ransom. Contraband, like cigarettes or drugs, rarely made it past the pockets of some of these guards, and they could be paid to supply just about anything a man wanted. Ramon held his hand out to the guard as if to shake his hand, and when the man took it, he found five hundred dollars pressed into his palm. The two men had reached an immediate understanding … it would be well worth it for the guard not to give Ramon Escobar a hard time … about anything.

Finally left alone, Ramon ran water in the small sink and washed his face. He studied his reflection in the mirror and wondered he'd ever get used to the face that looked back at him. In looking at the pictures and videos of the old Ramon, he had to admit that they did bear more than a passing likeness to each other. They looked like they could have been related, cousins maybe, or even brothers.

He looked at the scar that sliced through his forehead and eye and cheek. At the lip pulled up into a permanent sneer, the white eye, almost blind now thanks to the skillful hands of the surgeon. He wondered what Stephanie would think if she saw him; would she be frightened, would she still know him, would she even care?

He wondered how long he would live with this face; he wondered how long he would live at all.

Ranger and Stephanie had been friends, lovers, and partners.

He had been gone four weeks, five days, nineteen hours, and thirty-one minutes.

_**TBC …**_

_**Thank you for all the wonderful reviews, please keep 'em coming …I'll always be a review slut … but then again, so are all the characters in this story. I apologize for not posting every Tuesday like I usually do. Real Life has been interrupting my Plum Life. I promise to try to do better and get back on schedule … thanks for being so understanding.**_

_**Stayce**_


	21. Dodge Ball!

_**Disclaimer: Everyone belongs to Janet Evanovich except the ones that are mine, and I'm just playing.**_

_**Warnings: All 12 books, Sappiness.**_

_**A/N: Karen, smooches Girlfriend! Thank you for putting up with me, editing, and being my friend! **_

_**Thank you to all of you wonderful readers and reviewers. Please keep the reviews coming, Ranger says that if you want more of him in each chapter, well … you know what you have to do! The care and feeding of the male ego! Yeesh! **_

_**Don't forget to read Kashy's "Keep The Faith" … you don't want to miss it! Read and review it please, you'll be glad you did!**_

_**The Name Of The Game!**_

_**By Stayce (XJerseyGirl)**_

_**Chapter 19: Dodge Ball!**_

Stephanie squeezed her eyes shut and swallowed hard. Maybe she was hallucinating, she thought. Maybe the night vision goggles were making her see things? She took a deep breath and cracked her eyes open. Damn! The dogs were still there. So much for denial! Why did stuff like this always happened to her? What the hell did she do to deserve this? 'This' being the two snarling dogs that were standing not three feet away from her.

Her mind raced through everything she knew about dealing with vicious dogs: you don't make noise, you don't look them in the eye, you don't run, you don't make any aggressive moves … but all those things required her to be quiet and stay put, when all she really wanted to do was scream her head off and run like hell!

The dogs were frozen in position, legs stiff, heads down, hackles raised, teeth bared. Oh great! They were drooling … probably in anticipation of having her for dinner. Their eyes glittered in the dim light and their focus was locked on her. Steph watched their muscles bunch as they prepared to launch themselves at her. She could practically feel their hot breath on her throat, the throat they were going to rip out if she made one false move.

She took a slow, deep breath to steady herself. Maybe if she showed them that she was friendly and wasn't a threat, she thought. Okay, nothing ventured, nothing gained. "Nice doggy," she whispered. "Good dogs," she crooned. The dogs didn't even blink and Steph started to sweat.

She knew that she had to figure out some way to get out of the situation, but what? She didn't even have anything that she could distract them with, like a ball or a Frisbee or a cat. No donuts or TastyKakes, not even a cookie in her pockets. Where the hell was Lula with her bacon and pork chop diet when she needed her? If Lula had been able to outrun that pack of hungry dogs while she was wearing high heels, surely she should be able to outrun these guys in her boots. Okay, so maybe not, and she let a whimper escape her.

Bobby heard her. "Stephanie … are you alright? Answer me! Steph, tell me where you are!" There was urgency in Bobby's whispered voice. "Steph …"

"Bobby?" She whispered, praying that he could hear her. "Bobby? I have a little problem. Dogs!" She 'sing-songed.' She could hear the dogs panting on either side of her and she tried talking to them again, "Nice doggies, good doggies, pretty doggies …" It became her mantra and she repeated it over and over.

"Okay, Steph, listen to me. Can you see if they're wearing collars?" Tank's voice, this time.

She cut her eyes slowly to the animals. "Uh-huh. Both of them, with little box thingies attached to them."

Bobby's voice whispered, "Stay calm Slugger, just don't move and you'll be okay."

"Yeah, just take it easy, Bombshell. We handle this kind of stuff all the time. We got tranquilizer darts in the gear. Gonna send somebody to get 'em right now!"

"Oh, thank God!" she whispered back, almost weak with relief that washed over her. Doggie darts! Wonderful, beautiful doggie darts that would put the animals to sleep. They'd tranquilize the mutts and she'd get out of this in one piece instead of looking like a can of dog food.

Stephanie stayed crouched against the column, her legs trembling from holding that position for so long. Precious minutes that should have been used to rescue Zoë were ticking away. Granted, this wasn't anybody's fault, there wasn't any way of knowing that there would be guard dogs in here, there just hadn't been any time for surveillance. Still, she felt guilty that, yet again, she needed to be rescued. Why couldn't it be Tank or Bobby for a change?

The whole team was seamlessly adapting to this new little glitch in the plans and Steph could hear the chatter among them as they changed positions. Hal was inside the fence now, staking out the watchman's trailer in case he had to be dealt with, and Cal had moved in from the boardwalk to replace Hal at the fence line. Lester and Jeanne had moved closer to watch for unexpected guests who might crash their 'party.' The others were still out on the boardwalk to provide backup. Steph couldn't tell who had been dispatched to retrieve the tranquilizer gun, but it seemed that RangeMan really was prepared for anything.

The dogs knew that somebody was coming long before Steph saw Tank's shape separate itself from the shadows. She watched as he approached slowly from the front of the building, his automatic weapon aimed at the nearest dog. At the same time, Bobby came into the building from the back. The dogs saw him too, and they repositioned themselves to cover all three intruders, their heads turning back and forth, their muscles twitching. Tank stood to one side, between Steph and the dogs, Bobby on the other side of her. Neither one of them had a tranquilizer gun.

"Guys? What's going on? Where are the doggie darts?" She was starting to get nervous again.

Tank said soothingly. "It's taking too long to get them, Steph. We're running out of time. Bobby and I are trained to improvise and overcome, and we're gonna take care of this, Sweetie. Just relax, everything's gonna be fine!"

Bobby spoke softly, "The dogs are controlled by an electric wire that marks the perimeter of their territory. It's called an invisible fence. If they come too close to it, those little boxes on their collars give them a shock. They won't cross that wire. All we have to do is string it between you and the dogs. Piece of cake!"

"Bobby!" she whined, "these dogs think that _I'm_ a piece of cake!"

"You gotta trust us, Steph. We know what we're doing!" Steph just whimpered in response.

At his signal, Tank would distract the dogs and Steph would head straight up the stairs as fast as she could go. If the invisible fence didn't work, he and Bobby would neutralize the animals. Steph didn't ask what that meant; she really didn't want to know. "But no matter what, Bombshell, you'll be safe, I promise," he said. And what Tank promised, Tank delivered. Steph blew out a big sigh. She was SO going to kill them if she got out of this alive!

"Ready, kids?" Tank whispered. "On three … one … two … three … "Sit, Ubu Sit!" he bellowed. The dogs swung their heads toward Tank when he yelled, then to Bobby as he threw the coiled up wire across the floor, then back to Steph when she took off running. Bobby immediately raised his weapon to cover the dogs as Tank caught the wire and wrapped it around a column, effectively corralling the animals. They dashed back and forth along the wire, looking for an escape route, and finding none, frantically paced back and forth, growling at Tank and Bobby.

On three, Steph had jumped up and bolted away from the support column, sprinting across the floor as fast as her shaky legs could carry her. Her heart was trying to beat itself out of her chest and her pulse was pounding in her ears. She didn't stop to look back, just headed for the stairs. She leapt over stacks of building materials and power tools with the skill and grace of an Olympic hurdler. She heard the dogs start after her and the panic that she felt coil in the pit of her stomach spurred her on.

She hit the stairs running full tilt and got half way up before she stumbled and went down on her hands and knees. Scrambling up the steps on all fours, Steph reached the next floor and fell flat on her face on the landing. She automatically curled up into a ball and covered her head with her arms, protecting herself against the brutal attack that she knew was coming.

Holding her breath, Stephanie waited for the dogs to pounce on her, but long seconds passed and nothing happened. She had just started to unfold her body when Tank and Bobby materialized at the top of the stairway. They silently scooped her up, each grabbing an arm, and hauled her up the steps to the fifth floor where Irena had told Steph that Zoë was being held. They crouched in the darkness of the landing, listening for any telltale noises, but all they could hear was the fog muffled sound of the waves hitting the beach.

Communicating through hand signals, Tank indicated that he would search the left side of the fifth floor; Bobby went to the right, and Steph flipped them both off before they silently melted into the darkness. Steph made her way down the middle, gun in hand, crouching behind anything that could provide cover. She didn't expect to find Zoë alone, none of the team did. Based on the ransom demands, these kidnappers weren't the brightest criminal minds that they had dealt with, but still, no one really knew what they were capable of. The team had to be prepared for anything.

The night vision goggles they all wore allowed them to see the piles of materials, tools and all kinds of equipment that littered the floor, as well as helped them to keep visual track of each other. The front of the building was completely open, no walls or windows had been installed yet, and only a flimsy piece of yellow 'Danger' tape was strung from column to column across the opening. Between the darkness and the thick fog that was now creeping into the building, swirling around their feet and curling up the support columns, one false step could send them into a five story free fall.

Tucked away on the far side of the fifth floor, against the back wall, Steph found a makeshift room camouflaged by stacks of lumber and covered with tarps. A thin sliver of light showed from under the door which wore a variety of locks and deadbolts. She alerted the guys to her find, then moved closer to investigate. With her back to the wall, her gun held in both hands, she slipped closer and listened. She could hear the faint drone of voices and music from inside the room. It sounded like a TV, she thought, or maybe a radio.

The door stood slightly ajar and Steph approached it cautiously, holding her breath, trying to peek through the crack. Frustrated because she couldn't really see much of anything, she very slowly pushed the door open an inch and put her eye to the opening. A camping style lantern sat on the floor and in the dim light she could see Zoë, sitting on a bare cot. The girl's knees were pulled up to her chest and she sat with her back to the wall, watching a small TV that sat on a crate in the middle of the room. Duct tape was wrapped around her wrists and a chain ran from her ankle to the leg of the cot. Steph could see that the floor around the cot was littered with food wrappers and Coke cans, water bottles and magazines. At least they were feeding the kid, she thought.

The hinges creaked eerily as Steph pushed on the door again and she quickly wrapped her fingers around the edge to stop the noise. Zoë jumped and turned her head toward the doorway, her eyes widening in surprise when she saw Steph. Stephanie raised a finger to her lips in a 'Shhhh' sign and after a second, a clearly startled Zoë gave a slight nod. She seemed to understand that Steph wasn't a threat. The girl nodded her head toward the other side of the room, behind the door, as if to indicate that there was someone there. Stephanie nodded in understanding and held up one finger, Zoë nodded, two fingers, Zoë shook her head 'no'. Zoë closed her eyes and leaned her head onto her shoulder, indicating that her guard was asleep. Steph smiled and gave her a 'thumbs up' in return.

She inched the door open slowly while Zoë nervously watched her guard. Once she had pushed the door open wide enough, Steph stuck her head in just far enough to look around the door. Sure enough, the guard appeared to be fast asleep and Steph slipped silently into the room. Holstering her weapon, she pulled out her stun gun. Since the man was asleep, he'd never know what hit him.

Zoë's guard was a big man, who sat tipped back in a desk chair, his legs crossed at the ankles and his feet propped up on the desk. He was sound asleep, snoring softly, his chin on his chest. On the desk in front of him were a glass and an almost empty bottle of vodka. Cautiously, Steph moved behind him and pressed the stun gun to the back of his neck. His eyes opened in the second before she hit the button and zapped him, and she watched as he slumped further down and slid off the chair. His feet were still on the desk as his butt hit the floor and the chair slowly rolled away allowing his head to hit the concrete floor with a sickening thud.

Steph turned to find that Zoë had crawled off the cot and was huddled in the corner. She was trembling, staring at the man who was lying limp on the floor. "Oh my God!" she choked out, "Is he dead? Did you kill him?"

Steph pushed Zoë back onto the cot and grabbed her by the shoulders, giving her a little shake. "No, he isn't dead, just knocked out." She quickly peeled the duct tape off Zoë's hands, and then examined the chain and pad lock around Zoë's ankle. Tears streaked down Zoë's cheeks and she started to sob. Steph squatted down in front of her, squeezing the girl's hands.

"Zoë, look at me!" she whispered and gave her another shake, "I know you're scared and that you've had a real bad time, but you have to pull yourself together. My friends and I are gonna get you out of here. But you have to help us … you have to be calm and quiet. Okay?" Zoë swallowed hard and nodded her head. "Do you know where the key to this lock is?"

"They keep the key in the desk draw …" Zoë's voice died in her throat and her mouth hung open as she stared over Steph's shoulder.

Steph jumped up and swung to face the door, pulling her weapon. She immediately relaxed and grinned. Tank was a pretty impressive sight, dressed head to toe in black, wearing body armor, carrying an assault rifle and enough gear to launch a small invasion. He looked like he had just walked off a action movie set and he was pretty damned intimidating. He had stepped through the doorway into the tiny room and filled the small space, looking larger than life. He gave Zoë a smile and a wink.

After Steph retrieved the keys and freed Zoë, Tank took the chain and wrapped it around the unconscious guard's ankles, locking it securely in place. He searched the man, taking his weapons and cell phone. Steph found the duct tape and with Zoë's help, bound the guy's hands. While they wrapped the tape around his head to gag him, the man groaned and started to stir. Zoë paled at the sound of the stun gun as Steph zapped him again.

They were just leaving the room when they heard Lester's voice on their head sets. "Heads up boys and girls, some unexpected party goers are coming down the boardwalk. Three men, dark clothes, armed. Headed for the main entrance by the trailers. ETA three to five minutes. Wrap it up and get the hell out, now! Report your locations every two minutes."

Tank answered. "We have Zoë. We're on the north side of the fifth floor. One guard, down. We're coming out. Bobby first, Steph and Zoë, me on cleanup."

Zoë stared at Steph, looking at her clothes and weapons. "Are you guys cops?" she asked, sounding very young.

Steph shook her head, "No Zoë, just friends of your father's."

"Wow!" Zoë breathed. "Who knew my dad had such cool friends?" Tank and Steph grinned at each other.

Tank pulled out a pair of night vision goggles and slipped them over Zoë's head, adjusting them over her eyes. He whispered instructions, "Stay with us, follow orders, keep quiet. We'll take care of you and get you home in time for breakfast. Okay?" She nodded bravely, and Tank patted her shoulder. "Good girl, let's go!"

Steph turned off the lantern and Tank pulled the door closed, locking several of the padlocks that hung on the outside. They didn't want to make it easy for anyone to find out that Zoë was gone. Bobby was waiting for them outside the door and led the way to the stairs, but halfway there Lester reported that the three men were already headed into the building. They needed to find a place to hide, quickly.

Bobby and Tank went down the stairs to shadow the men, while Steph took Zoë up to the next level where they hid among all the materials and equipment. They covered their hiding place with a tarp but left an opening so that Steph could keep an eye on the stairs and most of the floor. She had her Glock and her Beretta, her stun gun and Mace. Unless in danger of discovery by the kidnappers or the watchman, she and Zoë would stay put until one of the team came to get them.

From their hiding spot Steph and Zoë could hear footsteps and men's voices echoing up the stairwell from the first floor. As they got closer, Zoë gripped Steph's arm, "That's them," she whispered, "the guys who brought me here from my Mom's place." Steph nodded and patted her hand.

Telling Zoë to stay put, Steph slipped out of their hiding spot and crept over to the open stairs to listen. She had recognized one of the voices and wanted to peek down the stairwell to see if she could get a look at the men. She laid flat on the floor and peered over the edge into the dark. She could see the beams from their flashlights as they climbed the stairs and she held her breath when they got to the fifth floor landing. One man stopped to light a cigarette and in the dim light from the flame she was able to put a face to the voice. Ivan! The other two she had seen on the street in Brighton Beach. They left the landing and went in the direction of Zoë's cell, still unaware that anything was wrong.

Slowly and quietly Stef slipped down the steps to watch them, crouching in the deep shadows on the stairs. Halfway across the level she saw Bobby, hidden behind a stack of crates, also watching the men. When the three realized that the door was locked, they pulled on the padlocks with no results. Between the three men, they forced the door open, and all hell broke loose. Steph could hear them yelling and cursing in English and Russian. They dragged the guard out of the room but left him lying on the floor. Ivan was so furious that he kicked the unconscious man in the ribs and one of the other guys had to pull him off the guard.

Thinking that Zoë had escaped by herself, they decided to search the building for her. Ivan was sure that she couldn't have gotten past the dogs on the first floor. He ordered one of the men to go and leash the Dobermans and to use the dogs to search the building for her.

Steph turned and scrambled back up the stairs, passing on the information about Ivan to Tank and the rest of the team. She pulled Zoë out of her hiding place and started searching for a new one. The dogs would have found her immediately, and Zoë would have been trapped. Wood and sheet rock, insulation and various other building materials were stacked at least ten feet high against the back wall of this floor, creating the perfect place to hide. Steph boosted Zoë up onto the top of the stacks, ordering her to stay there until one of the guys came to get her. The dogs couldn't get up there and if Zoë lay flat, she couldn't be seen from below.

Steph took off to find a hiding spot of her own, one that allowed a full view of this floor. With her heart in her throat, she moved cautiously from one support column to another, trying to get as close to the stairs as she could. She really didn't want to leave this floor and leave Zoë alone, but if she could lure the kidnappers away from the teen, that's what she was going to do. If she heard them coming, she would head up to the next floor, making enough noise that the men would be sure to follow her.

She sat with her back to one of the columns, waiting, trying to calm her stuttering heart and erratic breathing when she heard voices coming from below. She felt the adrenaline kick in and it coursed through her. She was on her feet, moving quickly, and she made it to the stairway before she threw herself behind the boxes of electrical equipment that were stacked there. She didn't want to get caught on the stairs and be seen. She wanted these men to think that she was Zoë, unarmed and helpless, trying to hide from them.

Glock in hand, she moved cautiously, her foot on the first step, when she realized that she wasn't alone. There was somebody standing behind her. Before she could spin around, a heavy hand was clamped tightly over her mouth and her arms were pinned to her sides in a vice-like grip, dragging her off the stairs. She struggled against him, but he pulled her against his chest and lifted her off the floor, carrying her away from the stairs and toward the open front of the building.

"Just had to come back, didn't you, bitch? Just couldn't take a warning. ,"

Steph immediately knew what he intended to do with her and fear curled in her belly. She twisted hard in his arms and tried to bite the hand over her mouth with no success. Kicking her feet back as hard as she could, she caught him in the knee with her boot heel. He grunted and staggered, going down on his knees, loosening his grip on her as they fell.

She landed hard, on all fours and wound up with her attacker half on top of her. She had managed to hold onto her Glock, but as she turned around to point it at him, he grabbed her wrist and twisted it, knocking her hand against the floor. She lost her grip on the gun, and it skittered across the fog slicked concrete floor and flew out the open front of the building.

She scrambled to get away from him so that he wouldn't have the opportunity to pitch her out after the gun, but he grabbed her ankle and tried to haul her back toward him so he could get his arms around her again. He reared back up on his knees as Steph turned onto her back. He still held one ankle, but she pulled back her other foot and kicked out with the sole of her boot, hitting him in the stomach as hard as she could. When he doubled over and let go of her ankle, she scuttled back from him and got to her feet.

In the dark she almost tripped over a pile of two by fours that were stacked in the middle of the floor. Grabbing one, she swung it like a baseball bat, putting everything she had in her into that swing as he charged her. She felt the reverberation shoot up her arms and heard him grunt as the wood connected with his head. She was prepared to swing again when she realized that he had stopped coming toward her. He put one hand to his head, swayed and reached back for the column behind him. He missed it and staggered backwards, hitting the 'Danger' tape that marked the open front of the building. Steph watched in horror as he teetered on the edge for a second, fighting for balance, and then fell backwards, disappearing down into the fog. All Steph heard was the muffled thump as he hit the ground, six floors below.

Stephanie backed away from the scene, fighting to breathe and stay calm. She ran her hands over her face and realized that she had lost her night vision goggles as well as her headpiece in the struggle, making her both deaf and blind. She had no way of communicating with the rest of her team, no way of letting them know what had happened, and no way to see the dangers in her path. Slowly, she made her way back over to Zoë, who had seen the whole struggle. Zoë was just about to drop her goggles down to Steph when they both heard the all too recognizable tap of the Doberman's toenails on the concrete.

Steph slowly moved away from Zoë's hiding place. There was just enough light for her to see the dog stalking her, taking a step forward for each one she took back. It was snarling with its fangs bared, and this time, there was no electric wire to save her. Steph backed up until she hit the wall behind her and froze. From somewhere in the darkness a voice bellowed, "Schlachter! Sitz!" The dog spun toward the voice and Steph heard two soft pops.

She leaned against the wall and watched the dog turn back to her. In his hind quarters was a little feathered dart. He had his head down, but now he wasn't snarling, his tongue was lolling out of his mouth and he didn't look so much dangerous as drunk. The dog staggered a little bit, then kind of wandered over to Steph and lay down at her feet, a puddle of drool growing under his mouth.

Steph was so relieved that her legs got wobbly and she slid slowly down the wall to sit on the floor. She felt a little lightheaded and giddy, and strangely sleepy. Her legs were stretched out in front of her, and in her thigh was the cutest little brightly colored feathered dart that she had ever seen. As she curled up on the floor next to the dog, Stephanie wondered if she was drooling, too.

RSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRS

Ramon Escobar was being escorted to his cell by two prison guards and the superintendent of the penitentiary. His hands were cuffed to a chain around his waist and his feet were shackled together, forcing him to take unnaturally short steps. Add to that the physical limitations from the stroke, and Superintendent Wilmott was afraid that Ramon would appear to be weak and frail. He had worried needlessly. Escobar exuded strength and power.

The Superintendent held him by the arm, appearing to steady him. Of course, this was all for show. Ramon's reputation had preceded him and from the day he had arrived, he had been the acknowledged alpha dog in the prison. However, with these last months spent in a prison rehabilitation facility, several other inmates had been jockeying for that position. Wilmott smelled trouble and he would do whatever was necessary to keep his squeaky clean record at the prison untarnished, even if that meant climbing into bed with a sadistic son of a bitch like Ramon Escobar.

Wilmott wanted to throw his support behind Ramon, realizing that it was to his benefit for Escobar to regain his position of power. Ramon ran his organization from inside the prison. Everyone knew it, and Ramon knew that everybody knew it. But in exchange for overlooking his illegal activities, Ramon liberally greased every palm in the prison. Nobody cared where the money came from, drugs, prostitution, murder, guns, they only cared where it was going … into their pockets.

Prison life was peaceful with Escobar in charge. If truth be told, he and his men ran the place, and Wilmott really didn't care. It was less work for him. Escobar didn't tolerate in-fighting or power struggles among the prisoners. There were no more gang rapes in the showers or shankings in the yard, few stole from their fellow prisoners and there were no threats of riots. The only violence was at the hands of Escobar and his band of enforcers who subscribed to the theory that it was better to be feared than to be liked.

Ramon was like the Colombian Godfather, he negotiated treaties among different factions, rendered services in exchange for favors, punished offenders, and had no tolerance for violations of his rules. Essentially, Ramon did Wilmott's job for him, and Wilmott had given serious thought to finding some infraction of the prison rules to charge Escobar with in order to keep him here a while longer. Only the fact that Escobar would have gutted him in the middle of the cafeteria with the entire prison population watching, had kept him from actually doing it.

The prisoners on Escobar's section stood in the doorways of their cells, clearing the hall out of respect for their returning leader. They applauded as he passed, and called out greetings, 'Q'vo?' and 'Como estas?' 'Hey man, glad you're back!' Despite being chained, Escobar acknowledged each man, shaking their hands, making Wilmott and the guards stop at each cell door and wait. The message he was sending was subtle but clear … Escobar was in charge.

All these prisoners considered themselves Escobar's men, willing to do whatever he asked, in hopes that when they got out, they would find employment with his widespread organization. He had a reputation for demanding absolute loyalty from those who worked for him, and in exchange for that loyalty his men lived the good life. Escobar was as famous for rewarding allegiance with the wildest and most extravagant gifts, as he was known for punishing disrespect in the most cruel and bloodthirsty manner imaginable. While his business acumen was never questioned, his sanity often was.

Che stood in the doorway of his cell, his arms folded over his chest and watched Escobar closely. The two men had exchanged handshakes and a few words. Che was the one person in the world that Ramon called 'friend.' Ramon had been inside for over two years when Che was transferred into this facility. During a power play among the prisoners, Che had foiled an assassination attempt on Ramon's life; the two men had become friends. Che knew more about the inner workings of Ramon's organization, his private life, his thought processes and his plans for the future than anyone else in the prison, maybe outside the prison as well. Ramon had acknowledged Che as his second-in-command in the prison, and it was a well known fact that when Che was released, he would assume a position as Ramon's right hand man on the outside.

Now, Che studied the man as he walked away. Something was off, different, about Ramon, but Che couldn't put his finger on it. They all knew that some famous plastic surgeon had worked on his face; supposedly trying to repair the scar, but that had been a failure. No, it wasn't his looks. He limped, but that was to be expected, too. Che would have to give it some thought, figure out what it was, and then figure out what to do about it.

Once Escobar reached his cell and was un-cuffed and unshackled, he stretched out on his cot and rubbed his aching head. He had never given in to pain before, but he had been plagued with headaches since the surgery to alter his eye, to make him appear to be blind. He still had partial vision in the eye, but the surgery had affected his depth perception and focus, making both his eye and his head hurt. He lay there with his eyes shut, hoping for a few minutes of peace and quiet.

"Cabron, te ves bien!" Che leaned against the doorway, humor and sarcasm in his voice.

Ramon opened his eyes and turned his head, smiling at his friend. He rolled off the cot and the two men embraced briefly, slapping each other on the back.

Che grabbed Ramon by the shoulders, "You're a sight for sore eyes, Jefe. I was beginning to worry," the emotion clear in his voice.

"Me,too, mi amigo, me,too! You have to tell me what's been going on in here."

"And you have to tell me what's going on at home," Che said softly.

Ramon blew out a deep breath and nodded in response.

Before the men had a chance to really talk, the 'lights out' bell sounded. As Che went to the door, he pulled a magazine from his back pocket and handed it to Ramon. "It's got some good pictures," was all he said as he went back to his own cell.

Ramon looked at the_Trenton Monthly_ that he held in his hands. It was an old copy, from over a year ago. He lay back on his bed and flipped through the pages, glancing at the pictures of the city that he had left behind. He turned a page and his breath caught in his throat. He was staring at a photograph of a lost life.

It was at that charity ball. They were on the dance floor and he was holding her close. Her hand was curled in his, and he held it over his heart. She was wearing that red dress, the one that made her look like she was walking through fire, the diamond and ruby earrings he had given her glittered in her ears. Her beautiful face was tipped up to his and they were smiling into each other's eyes. They were so clearly in love that it was almost painful to look at the picture.

He suddenly had an overwhelming sense of her … almost as if she were there with him. He could see her beautiful blue eyes when she smiled at him, and he could feel her move under him when he was buried in her. He could hear the little noises that she made in her sleep, and he could smell her shampoo when he buried his face in her hair. He could taste her skin on his lips. He wondered where she was, what she was doing, whether she was happy, if she had forgotten him.

He closed the magazine on the glimpse of the life he had left behind. The life he would never see again. He shut his eyes and prayed for sleep … and dreams of Stephanie.

Ranger and Stephanie had been friends, lovers, and partners.

He had been gone five weeks, two days, eleven hours, and thirty-four minutes.

_**TBC …**_

_**Okay, so who do you think Doggie Darted Steph? The bad guys? The good guys? Should Steph feel guilty for the guy that fell out of the building? After all, he was trying to kill her, wasn't he … that's self defense, right? And what about Escobar? Everybody in the prison knows him … will they see a difference? What will Che do? Is 'Ramon' in danger of discovery already?**_

_**Thank you for all the wonderful reviews, please keep 'em coming. Ranger wants to know if the scars add character, or do you want him to return to his 'drop dead gorgeous' status? Steph wants me to ask you if she should spend the weekend in Deal with Niko? She says she's off sugar again and needs a little action! Please let us know what you think!**_

_**I have to apologize again for posting late. I've taken on what has turned out to be a full time job, complete with an hour commute, each way and it's really cut into my writing time. I get a couple of weeks off in August and hopefully will be able to get back on schedule. Until then, I can only promise to post as often as time will allow, but I WILL keep posting. Thank you for being so understanding!**_

Jefe … Chief, Boss

Q'vo? ….. What's up?

Como estas? … How ya doin?

Cabron, te ves bien! … You look good, you son of a bitch!


	22. Assassin's Creed!

_**Disclaimer: Everyone belongs to Janet Evanovich except the ones that are mine, and I'm just playing.**_

_**Warnings: Violence, Semi-Smut, and All 12 books.**_

_**A/N: Special thanks to Karen and Christie for editing, support, friendship and ass kicking. **_

_**Thank you to all of you wonderful readers and reviewers. Please keep the reviews coming, Ranger says that if you want more of him in each chapter, well … you know what you have to do! The care and feeding of the male ego! Yeesh! **_

_**Don't forget to read Kashy's "Keep The Faith" … you don't want to miss it! Read and review it please, you'll be glad you did!**_

_**The Name Of The Game!**_

_**By Stayce (XJerseyGirl)**_

_**Chapter 22: Assassins' Creed!**_

For Stephanie there was no such thing as that night. For her, it was a blur of vague images, mostly having to do with being sick. The last clear memory she had was of that cute little feathered dart sticking out of her thigh.

She didn't hear Hal apologizing to her over and over again, or remember being carried to the car with Zoë trotting alongside, refusing to leave her hero. Zoë had cradled Steph's head in her lap for most of the ride back to Trenton, reversing their roles and becoming Steph's protector.

She had a dim recollection of Barton Thrasher scooping his lost child up into his arms and almost crushing her in a bear hug, obviously realizing that he had been given a second chance with his daughter.

She didn't know that Hal had removed her utility belt and her guns- for her comfort he said- but he took a lot of heat from his fellow team members. They teased him that he had hidden Steph's weapons for his own protection, so that she couldn't use them on him!

And much to her relief, Steph would later learn that the man she hit wasn't dead. He had fallen out of the building and into the open construction elevator two floors below. He had a broken arm and leg and would have the headache from hell, but he was very much alive.

The next morning Steph woke up to little men with jackhammers trying to dig their way out of her skull. She pried her eyes open, but the sunlight streaming into her bedroom burned into her brain like a laser and she squeezed her eyes shut again, pulling the covers over her head. _Hangover_, she thought, '_and I_ _didn't even have anything to drink! There's no justice in the world_.'

Her mouth was dry, probably from all the drooling and barfing she had done the night before, so she finally crawled out of bed, with her eyes still shut, and went in search of water... and Advil. She made it into her bathroom before the wave of nausea overcame her. She was queasy and dizzy and spent a few long minutes standing in front of the toilet, waiting to see if she really was going to throw up ... again. Oh God! What she wouldn't give for The Cure.

With her stomach still doing flips, she pulled open the medicine cabinet and came face to face with the pregnancy test that she had picked up in Brighton Beach. Her knees gave out and she plopped down on the little bench in her bathroom, staring at the box, still on the shelf. She had to admit that it was an odd purchase, but when she thought about it, all the things she had put in her basket at the pharmacy that day had been things she really needed. She was out of sunscreen, had needed the lip gloss, she was hungry, hence the candy bar, and then … this.

Maybe on some bizarre unconscious level she was afraid that she really was pregnant, after all, she _was_ late.. Okay, it was the very _first_ thing that would cross a girl's mind when she was late. One of the greatest fears in life, especially for a Jersey Girl from the Burg, was having to tell your mother that you were pregnant and unmarried, then watch her die from the shame and humiliation that you had heaped on her. From cradle to grave, Burg guilt lasted a lifetime.

How late was she, anyway? Steph got up and went into her bedroom, found her purse and rummaged around in it, looking for her checkbook … it had a calendar. Flipping it open, she leaned against the bathroom sink and tried to figure out when she should have had her period. As near as she could tell, it should have been six weeks ago. Holy shit! She was six weeks late! Why didn't she realize this before?

Panic curled in her already queasy belly before reason took over. _Now wait, Stephanie_, she lectured herself, _unless you're a candidate for Immaculate Conception, there's no way you could be pregnant._ Pregnancy required sex and sex required more than one person with a shower massage. Dream sex didn't qualify and the only time she had even come close to sex was with Niko … and …

Niko. Steph's thoughts immediately went back to the night that Tank had told her that Ranger was dead. She had dreamed of Ranger, and the dreams had been so real … his hands and mouth on her body, the feel of him moving inside her. But then, she had woken up to Niko. He had sworn that nothing had happened, he had seemed so sincere and she had believed him. He had always taken such good care of her … but if she really was pregnant … She took a deep breath and grabbed the box, ripping it open.

RSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRS

Hal pulled into the parking space behind the townhouse and started unloading the groceries. He needed to cook a really special dinner for Stephanie to make up for nailing her with that tranquilizer dart. She had been so sick afterwards and he felt really guilty. Even though she was only half awake, they had to stop the car every couple of minutes so she could get out and barf. He had held her hair out of her face and had given her water to rinse her mouth and lifted her in and out of the car, but that just wasn't enough.

She had been so sweet about it, telling him that it was okay, that now they were even for when she had stunned him. He supposed she was trying to be funny, but he hoped she was only kidding and didn't really think that he had shot her on purpose.

He had called Ella and had gotten the recipe for Steph's favorite meal, a shrimp and pasta dish, and then called Mrs. Plum for her recipe for pineapple upside-down cake. He had fudged a little when Mrs. Plum had asked him what the occasion was, and told her that he just wanted to do something nice for Steph since she had done so many nice things for him. After all, he couldn't very well tell the woman that he had accidentally doggie darted her daughter and that she had wound up on the floor sleeping next to a vicious attack dog.

Hal was just about to unlock the back door when it flew open and Steph came barreling out, almost running into him. "Sorry Hal, I'm late for an appointment." She seemed a little harried as she held the door open for him.

"You okay Steph, you still feeling bad?" Hal saw that she was very pale and looked a little distracted.

"I'm better, thanks, just running late … they're fitting me in, gotta run," she said over her shoulder as she made for her vehicle.

"Will you be home for dinner tonight?" He called after her as he juggled the bags in his arms.

"If you're cooking, then sure!" she called back with a smile. "What are you making?"

"It's a surprise, but you'll like it!" He grinned back at her. "Oh! Hey Steph, I almost forgot, I have your guns!"

Steph was half-way into her SUV and turned back to him. "Would you put them in my gun safe? You have the combination, right?"

"Will do! See you for dinner!" He went inside and let the door close behind him as he heard Steph start her car and tear out into the street.

Hal took the groceries into the kitchen and started to prep for dinner. Cooking for Steph was always fun, he thought, because while she hated to cook, she loved to eat. The kitchen filled with the mouth watering aroma of garlic and butter and lemon. He had just finished cleaning the shrimp when he remembered the guns, and quickly washed up so he could put them away.

He went through Steph's bedroom and bathroom to the walk-in closet where her gun safe was located; he spun the combination lock and then automatically checked the weapons to make sure they were unloaded before he put them and their clips into the safe, locking it up again.

He wondered if Steph would even own a gun safe if she still had the brown bear cookie jar. He shook his head when he thought about how grief stricken she had been over losing it. It had symbolized home and comfort and love to her. The only thing missing in this new kitchen with all of its dishes and cookware, gadgets and appliances, was a cookie jar. She had refused to buy another one.

As he went back through the bathroom, he picked up a hand towel that had fallen on the floor and turned to toss it on the counter next when he saw the pregnancy test stick sitting there. He stared at it for a minute as its full meaning sank in. When the shock wore off, he looked at the read out on it … two parallel blue lines, what the hell did _that_ mean? He looked around for the box or the instructions, but they weren't on the counter and the waste basket was empty. Crap, it was trash day!

As he walked back into the kitchen, a dozen questions ran around in his head and he couldn't find an answer for a single one of them. How should he handle this? Should he wait and see if she said something? Should he call the guys? Should he ask her?

He didn't know what to do and sat down at the kitchen table, his head in his hands. Right in front of him was Steph's phone book. He hesitated all of 2 seconds before he pulled it over and looked at the page it was opened to. He blew out a deep sigh and ran his hands through his hair as he looked at the only name and number on the page: Dr. Lorie Kivi, GYN.

Hal flipped his phone open and punched a number. When the call was answered, all he said was, "I think we might have a big problem."

An hour later Hal entered the conference room at RangeMan to find Bobby and Tank already seated at the table. Hal dumped the contents of several large bags onto the table top in front of the guys, and the two men sat there, looking from Hal to a pile of pregnancy tests and back again.

"Well, we have to find out which test she used and I only saw the stick, not the box! What was I supposed to do?" Hal demanded. "I couldn't stand there and rip every box open just to look at the stick! Grab one and get busy! We have to find out what those two blue lines mean!"

The three opened all the boxes and pulled out the instructions and the test sticks and lined them up. Hal looked them over, "Nope, nope, no, not that one, no, this is similar, nope, nope … I think this is it!"

He grabbed the instructions and read the part about the results. "Damn! Nothing about two blue lines! This must not be the one. We're gonna have to read them all."

"Didn't that test stick have a name on it?" Bobby asked?

"I didn't see one … but I, uh, really didn't, um, turn it over." Hal's face turned red.

Tank and Bobby stopped reading and looked at him. "Why not?" Tank narrowed his eyes.

Hal looked kind of sheepish. "Well, um, she, uh Steph, had to um, you know, to get a result, she had to …"

"You mean PEE on it?" Bobby started to laugh and couldn't seem to stop.

"Yeah?"

"Jesus H. Christ, Hal! You've been with us in some of the worst disease ridden hell holes in the world. You've crawled through blood and guts and been up to your eyeballs in God knows what kind of shit, but you couldn't touch a piece of plastic that squeaky clean little Stephanie peed on? I don't fucking believe it!" Tank just shook his head in disbelief.

Bobby wiped his eyes, "Remember who we're talking about, Tank. Our choir boy here has delicate sensibilities."

Hal glared at them both. "Hey, I was the one who held her last night while she puked up everything she ever ate in her whole life!"

"But was that because of the dart or because she's pregnant?" Tank was being sarcastic but the thought seemed to hit all of them at the same time. The smiles and laughter quickly faded, as the possibilities sank in.

Hal was the one who voiced it. "What if she is pregnant? I darted her. How much damage could that tranquilizer do to an unborn baby? How do I ask her to forgive me for hurting her child … Ranger's child?"

None of them had an answer to that question.

RSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSR

Steph stood outside her doctor's office and breathed a sigh of relief. Lorie had been her doctor for years and they knew each other well. They were both Burg girls, and they had laughed at how deeply engrained the guilt was, that even though Steph hadn't had sex with anyone, she still thought that she might somehow be pregnant. They had joked that it had been so long since Steph actually had sex, that maybe she was a little fuzzy on how to do it.

Lorie had administered a pregnancy test that came back negative and had given Steph a birth control shot so that there wouldn't be any future worries. She also suggested that, in light of all the things that Steph had been through lately, some R and R was in order.

Lorie told Steph to take some time off, to take a vacation and get away from it all. Steph had to admit that Lorie's idea sounded awfully good and Niko _had_ asked her to go to Deal with him. The more she thought about it, the more appealing the idea became. A weekend of sun and fun with Niko would be just what the doctor ordered ... literally!

Snapping her phone shut Steph smiled to herself. Niko had really sounded pleased and excited that she finally agreed to take him up on his offer. He had told her to pack her sunscreen … that she wouldn't need anything else. When she asked him about her bathing suit, he gave a fake sigh and said, "If you must!" making her laugh.

She really liked Niko and felt a little silly and more than a little guilty that she had doubted his word. He had never given her any reason to question his character, he was kind and considerate and handsome and sexy and from their one 'almost' encounter, she knew there was a strong physical attraction between them.

He might be a Ramos, and he obviously loved his Uncle Alexander, but he didn't have any part in the 'Family Business', the gun running and all the illegal activities. He was a doctor, a surgeon who went to the world's poorest places and repaired the damaged faces of little kids … in his spare time, no less. The man was practically a saint! Well, not quite, she thought happily.

She felt a little thrill at the idea of going away with him, taking the next step in their relationship. He made her feel special, beautiful and desired. It had been a long time since anyone had made her feel like that, made her care about how she looked, made her want to put on makeup and get dressed up. Maybe it was time for a little change, a new bikini or two, maybe some sexy lingerie, some soft, feminine clothes? A new look for a new guy. She got into her SUV, buckled the seat belt and headed for Macy's.

Half way to the mall her phone rang… Jeanne Ellen. "Hi Steph. How are you feeling?"

"Better thanks, Jeanne. Still a little shaky, but nothing that 12 more hours of sleep won't cure."

"Well good. We were all a little worried about you last night… you and Hal, that is. We were pretty sure he was going to have a breakdown of some kind." She chuckled. "We weren't sure if he was more scared over what he had done to you, or what you would do to him when you woke up."

Steph laughed at the thought of a panicked Hal. "Once upon a time I stunned Hal on camera for all of RangeMan to see. I guess now we're even!"

Jeanne laughed too. "Oh, Steph, before I forget. Barton Thrasher called. He wants to take Zoë to Europe and would like one or both of us to go along as chaperones/bodyguards/companions. I told him I'd speak to you about it." Steph could tell from the tone of Jeanne's voice exactly what she thought of the idea.

"Gee, I haven't been a babysitter since I was sixteen. I'm thinking the answer is 'No'!"

"Oh, I agree … as tempting as an all expenses paid European vacation, plus fees, sounds …" and they both chuckled.

"Yeah, if I'm going to Europe, I don't want it to be with a 15 year old girl! I'll call him tomorrow and decline the job."

They finished their chat as Steph pulled into a parking spot in front of Macy's and a very determined shopper hit the stores.

Hours later, laden down with boxes and bags, a happy Steph swung into the living room and collapsed on the couch. Not only had she bought out the mall, she had gotten a manicure and pedicure, a facial and a waxing, new makeup and had even convinced Mr. Alexander to fit her in for a haircut.

Hal came out of the kitchen, followed by Tank and Bobby to investigate the noise.

"Hi guys! You staying for dinner? Hal, it smells wonderful in here. When do we eat? I'm starved!"

"Looks like you really worked up an appetite, Bombshell. You must have single-handedly bought out the mall! And look at you, you're glowing!" Tank was eyeing her and all the bags that lay on the floor.

"Yeah, I put a pretty good dent in it, didn't I?" She looked pleased with herself. "I need a new wardrobe, and now was as good a time as any to start shopping." She gathered up her purchases and lugged them into her bedroom, oblivious to the worried look that the three men exchanged.

They waited until they heard the bedroom door close, then huddled in the living room. "New wardrobe?" Bobby voice was pained. "Maternity clothes …"

"And you know she's gonna think that it's Ramos' kid. We're gonna have to give him a head's up."

"Is he gonna be willing to play along?" Hal wanted to know.

"He better be, but what's gonna happen when this kid is born and everybody finds out that Ranger is the baby daddy?" Tank said disgustedly. "Shhhh, here she comes."

They gathered around the table and plates were filled as they talked and laughed. Steph was so hungry that she even enjoyed the salad that Hal had made. She moaned over the shrimp and pasta and licked the garlic butter from the bread off her fingers. When Hal asked if she wanted some milk, she snorted and reached for the wine bottle, filling her glass. She didn't notice that conversation stopped and all eyes were on her. As she raised the glass to her lips and the three men were galvanized into action.

"No, Steph! That glass is chipped!" Bobby said, jumping out of his chair.

Hal yelled, "Wait, the wine is sour," as he leaned over the table.

Tank ordered, "Bomber, stop! There's a bug …"

All three made a grab for the glass at the same time but all they managed to do was dump the wine all over Stephanie. She looked down at herself and then back up at them like they had gone crazy.

"_WHAT _is the matter with you three? Have you all gone nuts?"

They exchanged guilty looks as Steph mopped herself off, and Hal confessed, "I found that test stick in your bathroom and we thought that… maybe … you were, you know … um … that you shouldn't drink alcohol," he finished hurriedly.

Her eyes widened in surprise. "You thought I was pregnant? You were worried about me! Awwwww, you guys!" Tears filled her eyes as she looked at them. "I love you. I'm not pregnant, it was just stress and craziness and everything's fine, okay?" She hugged and kissed each one of them as she went to clean up.

Relief washed over the three men. Hal went into the kitchen and came back with a bottle of Jack Daniels and poured a hefty glass for each one of them. "Now we know why her mother drinks!" The three raised their drinks in salute to Mrs. Plum and drained their glasses.

RSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRS

The Aston Martin slid to a stop in front of Steph's townhouse and Niko went bounding up the stairs and rang the doorbell. He had been looking forward to this weekend more than he wanted to admit, even to himself. He planned days on the beach or on his sailboat, and nights ... well, he thought, he better not plan too far ahead, just let nature take its course. He grinned to himself, he'd better not think about Steph's nature at all unless he wanted to walk into her house sporting a hard on. There was something about that woman ...

Steph called good-bye to Rex and answered the door with her bag in hand. She raised her face for a quick kiss that turned into something slow and sensual and full of promise as Niko pinned her against the wall. They stood there, wrapped in each other's arms for long minutes before they broke apart, both of them breathless and a little giddy.

They made it to Deal in record time and spent the afternoon on the beach, playing in the water and dozing in the sun. Sophia and Eleni pampered Steph, helping her dress and doing her hair, and a smiling Costas handed her into the limo when Alexander took them to his favorite Greek restaurant for dinner and dancing.

A midnight swim seemed to be the perfect ending to the day, so Steph and Niko said goodnight to Alexander and headed down to the beach. As they crossed the patio, Niko grabbed a large beach blanket that was on one of the chairs and tossed it over his shoulder. Hand in hand, they walked down to the water's edge, then walked along the beach watching a storm gather on the horizon, the lightening flashing across the sky.

When they were far enough away from the prying eyes of Alexander's army of bodyguards, Niko spread the big blanket on the sand near one of the rock jetties. He sat and pulled Steph down into his lap, wrapping her in his arms, his mouth finding hers. She sighed as she melted into him.

His silken tongue slid over hers and his hands skimmed her body, seeming to be everywhere at once. He laid her back on the blanket and stretched out beside her, then pulled the blanket over them both. She gave a deep, throaty laugh when she realized that, somehow, her top had disappeared. She gave herself over to the delicious sensations that coursed through her when her already hard nipples pebbled almost painfully as Niko's fingers whispered over her bare breasts.

Distant thunder rumbled across the water, the storm building out at sea, the perfect counterpoint to their building desire. They didn't rush, taking their time, exploring each other's bodies, touching and tasting and teasing with hands and mouths, discovering what elicited a gasp or a shiver or a moan. Lust coiled and need shot through them like the lightening in the sky.

He trailed warm, wet kisses down her throat to the valley between her breasts, his hands kneading and his fingers torturing her nipples. She slid her hands down his chest and over the front of his shorts to lightly stroke his length through the fabric. When he finally captured her nipple in his hot mouth, she gasped and her back arched up off the blanket, her fingers flexing around him. They both moaned in pleasure.

He moved over her, bracing himself on his forearms and settled himself between her thighs. She scraped her nails down his back and under the waistband of his shorts to his ass, pulling him to her, rocking her hips gently, trying to get him where she so desperately needed him to be. His mouth worked on her sensitive neck, nipping, licking, kissing, and she writhed beneath him.

He took a deep breath and brushed her wild curls out of her face and kissed her gently, then carefully moved off of her. She made a little sound of disappointment at the loss of body contact and he chuckled quietly. He bent and kissed each nipple then helped her put her bikini top back on. "This isn't the place Sweetheart, the night has too many eyes and if I don't stop now ..." He left the rest unsaid as he threw the blanket off of them. They lay there with their arms around each other and their legs tangled, just watching the storm move closer.

"Let's take that midnight swim," he whispered as her kissed her shoulder, "and then we'll go back to the house," he kissed her neck, "and we can take a shower," he kissed her jaw, "and then …" he said against her lips. She could only nod in response and he scooped her up and carried her into the water, all the while whispering the things he wanted to do to her when he got her into his bed. She wrapped her legs around his waist and grinned as she moved against him. "Evil woman," he growled against her salty skin.

They played in the water until the storm moved closer, the thunder rumbling around them and the lightening streaking over the beach. The changing tide had carried them into deeper water and too close to the jetty where they could be caught by a wave and thrown against the sharp rocks. He took her hand and they started back onto the shallows up by the sand.

Lightening flashed and Niko's whole body stiffened, he muttered a curse under his breath and crouched down in the water by the rocks, pulling Steph down behind him. He pointed up the beach to where their blanket lay, and when the next bolt lit up the sky, she saw someone standing there, holding a gun, looking up and down the beach.

They watched from the rocks as the man walked down to the water's edge, the waves washing over his booted feet. His back to them, he came closer to their hiding place, still scanning the shore. Steph's heart pounded in her chest as she prayed that he wouldn't look out at the ocean or the jetty.

He stopped almost directly in front of them and Steph held her breath, her fingers curled into Niko's shoulders, certain they were about to be discovered. The gunman pulled out a radio and spoke softly in Russian … Steph had heard enough lately to recognize the language. She immediately thought of Joe's warning that the Russians would be trouble for Alexander. They would try to take over and there would be a war. This must be the first battle.

Niko found a sturdy piece of driftwood that had caught in the rocks, it was no match for a gun, but at least it was a weapon. Leaving Steph clinging to the side of the jetty, he slowly and silently moved through the black water coming up on the gunman from behind. He raised the wood and hit the gunman squarely on the base of his skull, the wood splintering. Steph watched in horror as the man went down on his knees, his arms limp at his sides, then slowly fell forward, his forehead hitting the edge of a rocks with a sickening crack.

Niko immediately went back into the water to get Steph, helping her away from the rocks and up onto the beach. Only when he was sure that she was alright did he turn the man over and check for a pulse. Steph stood next to the gunman and looked down at his half opened eyes and caved in forehead. Niko's grim expression confirmed what she already knew, the man was dead.

Steph automatically bent and picked up the gun from where it had fallen in the sand while Niko dragged the body out into the water. They watched for a moment as it floated, face down, the changing tide pulling it away from shore. Steph took Niko's hand in hers and leaned against him, the shock finally setting in for both of them.

She shivered and Niko wrapped her in his arms, taking the gun and slipping it into the waistband at the small of his back. Muffled voices startled them, making them turn toward the house but when they heard the gun shots that carried over the beach and down to the water, Niko pushed her down onto the sand, covering her with his body.

They heard automatic weapons firing and the security lights that normally illuminated every inch of the Ramos compound suddenly went out, making the darkness complete. They could see muzzle flashes in the blackness, the lightening and thunder making them feel like they were in a war zone.

"I don't know what's going on Steph, but I think they're after Alexander," he whispered to her once the gunfire stopped. "I have to go and see if I can help. I want you to go down the beach, away from the house and …"

"No!" she hissed. "I'm going with you; don't even _try _to stop me." Her heart hammering in her chest, she was more scared than she had ever been, but she had never run away from trouble. She looked into Niko's eyes sending him the message … she wasn't going to start running now!

Niko read the determination in her eyes and knew that she had made up her mind. There was no reasoning with her now. "I hope you don't regret it, Stephanie." He slid his hand around her neck and pulled her mouth to his for a fierce kiss.

They crouched down, staying low, running across the beach as the storm broke over them. Letting the shadows and driving rain camouflage them, Niko and Steph moved to the line of houses that paralleled the beach, each one surrounded by a low wall that held the sand at bay. Steph's heart was in her throat as they worked their way carefully from house to house, hiding in the shadows, watching and listening for any activity or noise. But everything was too still and with the adrenaline pumping through her veins and her mind working overtime, she painted horrible mental pictures of what they might find when they finally got to the pink stucco house.

Niko and Steph crouched in the deep shadow behind the compound's waist-high wall. He stood slowly; looking onto the patio with Steph still crouched down behind him. As he rose, a heavily accented voice came out of the dark, "Good evening Dr. Ramos. How good of you to join us." A man stepped out from around the corner of the house and pointed a gun at Niko. "It saves us the trouble of having to hunt you down."

"Who are you? What do you want?" Niko demanded, asking questions that he already knew the answers to.

A humorless laugh split the air and Steph shivered against Niko, "Who we are doesn't matter. And what we want? I thought that was obvious. We want you to die."

He motioned with his gun for Niko to raise his hands and Niko complied. The man aimed at Niko's chest, "Good-bye, Doctor," he said with a sneer.

The two soft pops from the silenced weapon were lost in the noise of the storm. He looked down in surprise at the bloodstains that bloomed on his chest before he crumpled to the ground. Steph sagged against Niko's back and took a shuddering breath as she lowered the gun she had taken from his waistband. He quickly turned and caught her around the waist, pulling her shaking body to his chest as he dragged her back into the shadow of the house.

They heard running footsteps and Steph, still on her adrenaline high, turned and raised the gun in both hands, prepared to fire at the first person who came around the corner of the house. A familiar voice called, "Nikolas! Nikolas!" and Steph dropped her arms in relief. Niko called out and Stavros, with a group of Alexander's heavily armed bodyguards, surrounded them.

Stephanie leaned back against the pink stucco of the house and ran her hand over her face, surprised to find out that she was crying. The rain had picked up again and she tipped her head back to let it wash away her tears. Her heart still hammered in her chest and her knees were weak. Somehow, she thought, her wonderful, relaxing weekend getaway had turned into a blood bath.

She listened to Niko talking with the men but couldn't process what they were saying. It took her a few seconds to realize that they weren't speaking English and she giggled when she thought of the phrase, 'It's all Greek to me.' _God! Get a grip Stephanie, you're getting hysterical. _

Her laugh brought Niko's attention back to her and he gently took the gun from her hands, motioning to one of the guards who stepped forward. Niko handed him the gun, "Ajax, clean it up and make it disappear." The man gave a curt nod and took the weapon, putting it in his waistband, and then turned to help carry the body of the man Stephanie had shot down the beach toward the water.

She stepped back into the shadows, forgotten by the group, watching Niko giving orders to the guards. He clearly was in charge. Suddenly, two bound men were pushed into the circle and forced to their knees, guns pressed to the backs of their heads. She heard Niko question them but they didn't answer. When one spat on the sand in front of Niko, they were both dragged to their feet and shoved toward the water.

Niko ran his hands over his face and through his hair. He looked at Stavros, "Take care of them." The big man nodded and walked down the beach. Steph's breath caught in her throat as she realized what was going to happen to those men. Black spots danced in front of her eyes and bells clanged in her head. She bent over; afraid she was going to be sick.

One of the men put his hand on Niko's arm and nodded toward Steph. He stripped off his windbreaker and handed it to Niko who wrapped the jacket around Stephanie's shivering body. He tipped her chin up so that she would look into his eyes. "Panos is going to take you inside," he said gently. "Alexander is in the kitchen and the girls are there too." She nodded numbly and allowed Panos to lead her away.

As they made their way to the back door, Stephanie could see bloodstains on the path and stumbled as she tried to step over them. Panos lifted her in his arms and carried her into the kitchen, seating her on one of the stools at the counter.

Alexander handed her a glass … "Drink it, Chickie. It'll help." Without hesitation Steph downed the contents of the glass and gasped as the clear liquid burned its way down to her stomach. Alexander was right, it did help. Warmth spread through her body and her head slowly cleared.

Sophia came into the kitchen and took Steph upstairs where she stood in the shower until she looked like a prune. Sophia helped her dry her hair and dress in a black sleeveless shirt and soft black pants instead of pajamas, just in case there was more trouble. She curled up on the bed and Sophia pulled the comforter over her, quietly slipping out of the room.

Steph laid there for a long time, but sleep wouldn't come. She needed to talk to Niko, to find out what had happened and why the compound had been attacked. She had really killed a man tonight. Yes, it was self-defense, but she still wanted to know who he was. She just had too many questions about what had happened out on the beach running around in her head for her to fall asleep. Throwing back the covers, she got out of bed and padded downstairs, walking through the darkened house looking for Niko. She heard voices as she got to the kitchen doorway, and stopped to listen so that she wouldn't barge in.

Alexander and Niko were talking in the dark kitchen. "Niko, I'm sorry that it has to be this way, but Stephanie has seen and heard too much. She can't be trusted to keep her mouth shut. We have no choice but to take the necessary steps to prevent her from telling what she knows about the Ramos Family." Steph froze when she heard her name and stepped back into the unlit dining room.

"But Uncle," Niko countered, "She killed that man tonight. She saved my life and maybe your's too! This family owes her a debt … We can't do this to her." Stephanie pressed her back against the wall and edged closer to the doorway, not wanting to miss a word.

"Niko, your father, my own brother, was going to betray us. It was my duty to prevent that and I did what I had to do. I accepted my responsibility and afterwards I raised you like my own child. I took care of your mother and sisters, none of you wanted for anything. We do what we must."

"There has to be some other way. She doesn't deserve this." The pain in Niko's voice was evident.

"No," Alexander said sadly, "she doesn't. But your first loyalty lies with the Family. We all share the same blood, and have all sworn the same blood oath to duty and honor. The Family must be protected at all costs, and we are all asked to do difficult things."

"Difficult? You're asking me to steal the rest of her life. The man she shot was an assassin. She gave me _back_ the rest of my life. Now you're asking me to rob Stephanie of the rest of hers! How can that be honorable?"

"Not honorable, necessary. You know that I would do this for you if I could," Alexander said sympathetically. "But I'm an old man, and with my heart condition, it would kill me. There _is_ no other way. You know what I expect you to do. The quicker it's done, the easier it'll be." Steph could hear Alexander pat Niko on the back.

Niko sighed deeply, "Yes Uncle." Alexander left the kitchen through the living room door.

Steph stood in the darkened dining room, her head tipped back against the wall and her hands clamped over her mouth so that they wouldn't hear her sobs. Oh God! They were going to kill her! The men who had protected her, taken care of her, nursed her when she was sick, helped her mend her broken heart … those same men were going to kill her … what was it Niko said? Rob her of the rest of her life.

Steph was trying to formulate an escape plan when the lights flicked on and Niko walked into the room. They both froze in surprise but when he saw her tear stained face and fear in her eyes as she backed away from him, he knew that she had heard the conversation.

Steph took in his sad expression and more importantly, the gun in his hand, and survival instinct kicked in. Picking up a crystal bowl from the sideboard, she threw it at him with everything she had in her. As he sidestepped it, she bolted past him, through the doorway and into the kitchen, out the back door and across the patio. She heard him call after her as she slid over the wall and took off down the beach as fast as her legs could carry her.

If she could just get to the jetty maybe she could hide in the rocks, but the sky was already starting to lighten. She was a strong swimmer. Maybe she could swim parallel to the shore line until she got far enough away. Maybe … Maybe … She could hear him running after her and when she looked over her shoulder to see where he was, she tripped and fell, hard.

She pushed herself up on her hands and got to her knees before she realized that she had tripped over a body. A small scream escaped her as she struggled to her feet and backed away, her eyes riveted on the dead man. She stumbled away and turned to run in the other direction, only to see another body lying on the beach, and another, and another … wherever she looked there was a dead man.

She turned in a circle, Panos, Stavros, Costas and others surrounded her and she could taste the bile in her mouth as panic overtook her. Hands gripped her shoulders and she screamed. Niko, who wanted to add her to the body count. She struggled, futilely, against him as he turned her to face him, grabbing her wrists and twisting her arms behind her back.

"Stephanie," he hissed, "stop fighting. Don't make me hurt you!"

The fight went out of her and she sank to her knees on the wet sand … next to the man she had killed.

Ranger and Stephanie had been friends, and lovers and partners.

He had been gone five weeks, five days, twenty hours, and thirty-seven minutes.

_**TBC …**_

_**A/N: So … does Alexander really want Niko to kill Steph? And if he does, will Niko really do it? Is Niko a bad guy or a good guy caught in a bad situation? Do you think that Steph can get herself out of this? How? Can she rescue herself? Or will someone come to her aid?**_

_**Thank you for all your wonderful comments and reviews. I really try to respond to each one, but if you leave an 'anonymous' review, of course I can't. Just please know that every comment, whether it's a review or a PM, is important to me (and Ranger and Steph and the MM who have demanded more 'screen' time.) Please keep those questions, comments, and reviews coming in, we ALL love them!. **_


	23. Risk!

_**Disclaimer: Everyone belongs to Janet Evanovich except the ones that are mine, and I'm just playing.**_

_**Warnings: Language, and All 12 books.**_

_**A/N: Special thanks to Karen and Luisa for editing, support, friendship, suggestions, translations, and general ass kicking. **_

_**Thank you to all of you wonderful readers and reviewers. Please keep the reviews coming, Ranger says that if you want more of him in each chapter, well … you know what you have to do! The care and feeding of the male ego! Yeesh! **_

_**Don't forget to read Kashy's "Keep The Faith" … you don't want to miss it! Read and review it please, you'll be glad you did! **_

_**The Name Of The Game!**_

_**By Stayce (XJerseyGirl)**_

_**Chapter 23: Risk!**_

Niko pulled Stephanie to her feet, and as Alexander's men watched, hauled her back up to the house. He didn't hurt her, but he was rough enough that she knew he meant business as he dragged her up the beach. She kept glancing up at him, but he didn't look at her.

Niko was silent as he held her tightly by the arm, his long strides making it difficult for her to keep up with him. When her shaky knees caused her to stumble, it was Panos, who had been walking behind them, who lifted her back to her feet and took her other arm to steady her. He didn't look at her or speak to her, remaining cool and aloof, the gun in his hand speaking for him. Niko didn't say a word either, his expression cold and his body rigid; Steph could feel the anger radiating off of him. Stavros, his gun at the ready, followed behind them. Her heart sank as she realized that there was no hope of escape.

The security lights were back on in Alexander's compound, making the entire outside area almost as bright as day. Alexander's army of armed guards was patrolling the whole place in an unmistakable show of force. The group had just made it inside the low retaining wall that surrounded the house when Niko stopped suddenly and pulled Steph back, turning her to face him. He looked down at her and ground out a furious, "Shit, Stephanie!" through clinched teeth. She shrank away from him, her heart stuttering in her chest, but Panos held her in place, effectively preventing her from running again.

Niko spoke to Panos in rapid Greek and the two men dragged her over to the side of the garage and shoved her back against the wall, forcing her arms down at her sides. "Don't move! It'll all be over soon." Niko ordered curtly and stepped back from her. Stavros stood directly in front of her, an automatic rifle in his hands, his impassive eyes trained on her. Her breath caught in her throat … Oh God! This was her execution!

Stephanie wrapped her arms around herself as if that would provide her with some kind of protection from the bullets. A sob escaped her as she turned her head … maybe if she couldn't see, it wouldn't hurt as much. She should pray, she thought, and searched her brain for the words, but couldn't find them. She didn't want to die this way; she didn't want to die at all! This wasn't fair! This wasn't her fault! The tears she had been fighting slid down her cheeks before she realized that sure, she was scared and confused, but more than that … she was pissed!

"Close your eyes, Stephanie," Niko's voice ordered her. "Stavros!" She could practically hear Niko's voice command, "Ready … Aim … Fire!" She was surprised that they didn't offer her a blindfold and a cigarette. She'd show them what she was made of! She stood up straight and pressed her back against the stucco wall, held her breath and waited for the bullets.

She screamed as she was hit by the ice cold water that cascaded down over her head. She sputtered and choked as hands grabbed her arms, pulling her under the frigid water. She was being held under the outside shower by Niko and Panos! What the fuck?

Hands dragged her head back by her hair, holding her face up to the water. It felt like they were trying to drown her and she fought against them. "God damn it, Stephanie! I told you to hold still!" Niko barked at her and he gave her a shake.

His fingers grasped the neckline of her soaking wet shirt and a small cry escaped her as he ripped it open to her waist, the tiny buttons flying everywhere. Panos dragged the ruined shirt down her arms and tossed it aside, quickly unzipping her sodden pants and stripping them from her legs. He threw them on the ground with her shirt, leaving her standing under the icy water wearing only a tiny little La Perla demi-bra and a scrap of lace that passed itself off as panties. She felt vulnerable and exposed, crossing her arms over her chest, trying to cover herself.

The water stopped and suddenly Niko was working nasty smelling soap through her hair, muttering under his breath the whole time he scrubbed her, twisting her head back and forth. The suds ran down her face and she hissed as the soap burned her eyes. "I told you to keep your eyes shut!" he snapped impatiently.

She could smell and taste the institutional soap as he ran a rough cloth over her face and then worked his way down her body to her feet. He turned her roughly and pushed her against the wall as he scrubbed her back. He washed her thoroughly, then turned the water on again and pulled her under the stream, rinsing off the soap.

By the time he was finished, Stephanie was breathless and shivering violently, but from cold or from shock, she didn't really know. She leaned against the wall and pushed her sopping wet hair out of her face, watching as Niko rinsed the soap off himself and turned off the water. He ran his hands through his hair and looked down at her, clearly annoyed.

Grabbing her by the arm, he hauled a shivering Stephanie away from the wall, down the path and through the door into the kitchen, bellowing for Eleni to bring towels. Panos followed them, closing the door and standing with his back to it, gun in hand, blocking the escape route.

Niko flipped on the overhead kitchen light and pushed her under it, examining her face and chest, arms and hands, even checking her knees, turning her this way and that under the light while she dripped a huge puddle of water onto the tile floor. When he was satisfied with his inspection, he let her go, leaving her standing in the middle of the room.

Eleni burst into the kitchen, her arms loaded with big, fluffy towels. She stopped short and her eyes widened in surprise as she looked at the dripping wet trio. Niko took a towel and wrapped it around his own waist, "Eleni, help her dry off!" he snapped. Wide eyed, Eleni wrapped Stephanie in one of bath sheets and helped her twist her hair up in a towel. She held out a towel to Panos, but he refused it with a curt shake of his head. Eleni kept throwing nervous looks at the two silent men as she mopped up the puddle from the middle of the kitchen floor, then fled the room, throwing Steph a worried look on her way out.

Stephanie stood in the middle of the kitchen, her head tipped down, watching Niko through her lashes. He was standing with his arms crossed over his chest, leaning against the kitchen counter. Her stomach was in knots as Niko stared at her for a long minute. She swallowed hard, her heart pounding in her chest as he studied her, scared of what was going to happen next. He looked at Panos and with a nod of his head, sent the man outside.

Once the door closed, Niko came to stand in front of her. "Would you tell me what that was all about?" He ground out through clinched teeth. "I realize that you've been through a lot tonight but why the hell did you fly out of here like the hounds of hell were chasing you?"

She swallowed hard and wrapped her arms tightly around herself. This was so surreal … she couldn't be having this conversation with the man she had planned on sleeping with, the man she had trusted. "I heard Alexander say you had to keep me from talking. I know what that means." She took a deep shuddering breath. "How are you going to do it? I think I deserve to know." Her voice sounded small and far away to her own ears.

He sounded confused. "Do what? Stephanie, what do you think we were talking about?"

She bit her lip, and still unable to look into his face. "Getting rid of me." She fought the tears that stung her eyes. "How are you going to kill me?"

As the shock registered, he pushed off the counter and crossed the room to her in three steps. She let out a yelp and backed away from him, tripping over her own feet. She would have fallen except Niko grabbed her and lifted her onto one of the bar stools in front of the island. She clutched at the towel that was threatening to fall off, pulling it snug and tucking the end of it in between her breasts.

Grabbing her chin in his hand, he forced her eyes up to his. "Kill you?" he said in amazement. "Stephanie, do you honestly think that I could ever hurt you?" He studied her face, then jerked his hand away from her and took a step back. "You're serious! You're afraid of me! You think that I'm going to hurt you!" He ran his hands through his wet hair and turned away from her, shaking his head in disbelief. "Jesus Christ! You were running from ME!"

He stood with his back to her for a few seconds, then looked back at her pale face. He went over to a cabinet and took out a bottle and two glasses. He poured generous amounts of the clear liquid then thumped the bottle down on the granite countertop, picking up the glasses and wordlessly handing her one. She took the glass and had to hold it in both hands because she was shaking so hard.

He raised his glass and took a drink, then realized she hadn't touched hers, nervously looking from the glass to him and back again. "Oh Christ!" he muttered under his breath and snatched her glass out of her hands, replacing it with his own. "Okay? I already drank from it, it isn't poisoned or drugged or anything … it's just ouzo. Drink it!"

She raised the glass to her lips with both hands and he could hear it clink against her teeth, but she swallowed it in one gulp. She choked and gasped for breath as the liquid burned its way down her throat and the tears that she had been fighting slipped down her cheeks. She swiped them away with the back of her hand as she caught her breath.

Without looking at her he asked, "Have I ever done anything that would make you think that I could hurt you?"

She shook her head then flicked her eyes up to his face and tried to take a deep breath but it caught in her throat. "No, but I heard Alexander say that I knew too much and … and that you had to keep me from telling," she wrung her hands, "and about doing stuff you don't want to do and honor and loyalty to the family and … and you said he was asking you to steal the rest of my life and … and Panos," she pointed out the door, "following me with his gun … and all those dead men and … and you ordered Stavros to take care of those guys and then … she stopped and clapped her hand over her mouth when she realized what she had said, turning to look at him with wide, frightened eyes.

Niko looked up at the ceiling, "Why me, God?" and scrubbed his hands over his face.

She was starting to gulp in big ragged breaths of air as the panic took over. Niko went and got the bottle and poured her another drink then wrapped his hand around her trembling one, guided the glass to her mouth. This time she didn't choke when she swallowed it down, just took a deep breath and licked her burning lips.

Niko sat on the stool next to her and poured himself another drink. He leaned on the counter and looked into his glass as he swirled the liquid around. "In the first place," Niko said softly, "Alexander adores you, Steph. He would never allow anything to happen to you. He hand-picked Panos to be your bodyguard." Niko took a sip from his glass.

"Bodyguard?" She said the word like she had never heard it before. "I thought he was supposed to keep me from running away."

"He is! But for your safety, not to hold you prisoner! I knew you'd be safe here in the house, and then you went tearing out of here! We don't know if we rounded everybody up, there could be more guys out there just waiting to pick us off. We couldn't let you go running around playing target. You scared the shit outta me!"

"Oh," was all she could say. "Sorry."

"Secondly," he said with a big sigh, "Alexander doesn't want me to _kill _you; he wants me to _marry_ you. A wife can't be forced to testify against her husband and Alexander figured that was the best way to insure your silence and loyalty. That's what I meant about stealing the rest of your life, Steph." He swallowed the rest of his drink. "I know that you're not in love with me."

Stephanie reached over and grabbed the bottle of ouzo, pouring them each another drink. "But you're not in love with me either. If you marry somebody you aren't in love with, you'd be giving up the rest of your life too. Don't you count?" She sipped the ouzo, deciding that it didn't taste all that bad after all.

Niko snorted. "It wouldn't really be a big problem for me. If you didn't behave, or if I got tired of you, I could always stash you away on a private island in Greece and just go on my merry way. A lot of the men in my family have done that." He grinned at her as he downed his ouzo. "It's tradition," he said with a shrug.

"Assholes! Men are assholes." She grumbled and he smiled and shook his head.

They sat in silence, sipping their drinks.

"So what was that whole shower thing about?"

Niko hesitated for a minute. "This is where the doctor in me kicks in, Steph. When you tripped and fell on top of one of the bod …" He sighed and ran his hand over his face. "Let's just say you were a mess, and for safety's sake, we needed to clean you up, fast."

"Blood?" He gave a small nod. "A lot of blood?" she whispered. He nodded again and watched as she closed her eyes and a shudder passed through her.

He leaned over and kissed her cheek. "Don't worry, Sweetheart, all of this will work out. We'll think of something."

"So what happens now?" she looked up into his eyes.

"Now you go get dressed, and we get you home. I'll tell Alexander that I'm working on you and we'll give it some time and see what happens. Okay?"

RSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRS

Stephanie walked into her living room, dropped her bag, and collapsed on the couch. The last twenty four hours had been among the most stressful of her life, and she was exhausted from the emotional rollercoaster she had been on. Her head was pounding with a permanent headache and there was a knot in the pit of her stomach that may have had something to do with all that ouzo. All she wanted to do was crawl under the covers and sleep forever. Maybe it was a good thing, she thought, that the adrenaline was still pumping through her a mile a minute and sleep was the last thing that her body would allow her to do.

She realized that this was a very powerful Family, with a capital F. With all the yelling and gunfire, the police never showed up … they just called and accepted an apology for the noise that the fireworks caused. _Fireworks, my ass!_ She thought. The cops knew it wasn't firecrackers, so did the neighbors, so did everybody. But nobody wanted to rock the Ramos Family boat … nobody was that stupid.

The more she thought about it, the clearer it became to her that she needed to put some distance between herself and the Ramos Family. A cooling off period sounded like just the thing they all needed and the only way that was going to happen, was for her to get out of Dodge… fast … before Alexander had a chance to change his mind and decide that she had to become Mrs. Doctor Nikolas Ramos. Right now!

That all expenses paid European vacation with Zoë and Barton Thrasher seemed like the perfect solution and she flipped open her phone and dialed his number. While she talked with him, she walked around the house peeking out the windows, trying to see if anybody … like Panos, was watching her. She didn't spot anything suspicious, but still, her spidey sense was tingling and she knew better than to ignore it.

She'd have a lot to do in the next two days to get ready for this trip and she went into the bedroom and pulled out her suitcases. She had gone to Europe a couple of times with Ranger for long weekends and business meetings. In no time, her bags were full. She surprised herself with how efficiently she was able to pack. But really, she thought with a rueful laugh that was only because she'd be spending all her time with a teenaged girl, not a man she wanted to impress or seduce or excite, so all she packed were comfy, serviceable clothes.

She almost laughed out loud when she thought about how much time it had taken her to choose the clothes she took to Deal for this weekend. She had laid out a dozen outfits and discarded them, then laid out a dozen more, bathing suits and nighties, lingerie and shoes … she snorted, all that planning and look at what a fiasco it had turned out to be!

Men! She was swearing off them, she decided as she packed her lingerie. At this point in her life they were only good for sex and she couldn't even manage to get herself laid! All she needed was her trusty shower massage … and maybe a trip to Pleasure Treasures. The worst that could happen with a purchase from there was that the batteries wore out. There was no love, no emotions, no expectations and no disappointments. The Lady Workhorse doesn't do it for you? Move on up to the Herbert Horsecock. Her life would be so much simpler. Yup! No more men!

She put all her makeup and toiletries in zip-lock bags just like Ella had shown her, then took a larger zip-lock to put her tickets and passport and … Oh shit! Her passport! Where the hell was it? She certainly didn't bring it with her when she left RangeMan, so that's where it still had to be. She blew out a deep breath and flipped her phone open … she really didn't want to have to go back there again, but it didn't look like she had any choice.

Two hours later she walked through the front door at RangeMan. Ram was on desk duty and greeted her with a hug and a kiss, noting her pale face and that she looked tired and stressed. She assured him that she was fine and gave him a little finger wave as the elevator doors closed on her.

She met Tank in the Conference Room again where Ella had set out coffee and cake. Steph smiled at the relaxed rules and wondered if there were TastyKakes in the break room now, as she broke off a piece of delicious lemon pound cake and nibbled on it. Tank sat quietly, observing her, having received a call from Ram about how tense Steph looked.

"So, how ya doin' Bombshell?" Tank asked conversationally.

She had decided to tell Tank as little as possible, "I'm thinking of going on a trip and I need my passport, that's all." She tried to act nonchalant as she sipped her coffee.

"Un-huh … so where are you going, who are you going with, how long are you gonna be gone?" Tank grinned at her as he sat back in his chair with his long legs crossed.

"Gee, Dad," she said sarcastically, "I'm going to be thumbing rides from homicidal maniacs. Seriously, I just need to get away for awhile." It wasn't a lie, she told herself. She really _did_ need to get away for awhile.

He leaned over and took her hand in his. "What's really going on, Steph? I know worried when I see it. What are you running from?"

She should have known that she couldn't fool Tank, he knew her too well. He had been able to read her almost as well as Ranger had. She resigned herself to the fact that she had to tell him the whole truth, so she poured herself another cup of coffee, sat back in her chair and told him the whole ugly story.

She was surprised at how much better she felt when she finished. She had to admit that she was a little worried that she really would wind up on that private island in Greece. Now, at least, there was somebody who would come looking for her in case she disappeared. "So what do ya think, Tank?"

"I think it's a wise move, putting some distance between you and Alexander Ramos. He's a man who's used to getting what he wants. Unless, of course, you _want_ to be planning that wedding?" She gave him a death glare. "But Bombshell," he said in mock innocence, "think of how happy your mother would be if you married a doctor!" He ducked as she swung at him.

"You'll be moving around a lot in Europe, but I want you to take a secure phone with you and a GPS. Take a RangeMan card so that your movements can't be traced through credit card usage and keep in touch. Anything else I can do?

"While I'm gone would you check on my family? I'm just telling them that I'm taking an out of town job for a couple of weeks. And of course, please don't say anything, not even to the guys. Hal doesn't really like or trust Niko, I don't want him going off half-cocked."

"Sure thing Bombshell, in fact it might not be a bad idea if RangeMan let it be known that you were on a job for us. That way, anybody who wants information will automatically come here and we can keep tabs on who's asking questions. And no games, Steph, I mean it. You check in on a regular basis," he pushed her passport across the table to her.

"Cross my heart, Tank," she said softly.

Tank hesitated a moment, "Steph, you know that all your stuff is still here, don't you … your clothes and your jewelry? He really wanted you to have it. I could get it for you, if you want."

She shook her head no, getting up out of her chair to look out the window. "Oh, he wanted me to have it alright." She gave a sad little laugh. "He told me to sell it, that's how much it all meant to him … just dollars and cents. Money, to salve his conscience, I guess." She sighed. "Sell the jewelry, donate it, do whatever you want with it, Tank. There was only one piece that really had any value to me."

She thought back to that day that Ranger had slipped the heavy gold necklace around her neck, the magical black and white pearl suspended from it. She almost smiled when she thought about the necklace that had no clasp, no beginning and no end. It was a circle, he had said, a ring, the only ring he would ever need to bind them together forever. Her hand automatically reached up to touch the pearl that no longer lay on her chest. She was quiet for a long time, lost in her memories.

"Tank," she didn't turn to look at him. "What happened to the pearl?"

_Fuck!_ He thought, _she would have to ask about that_. "I'm sorry Bomber, I'm not sure what happened to it, all I know is that it isn't here."

She just nodded. _He probably gave it to Tessa. It mirrored them too … she was so fair next to his dark skin. If she was wearing it when the plane crashed, then the pearl is back where it belonged … at the bottom of the ocean, right where it was born_.

She shook her head to dispel the sad thoughts. Passport in hand, she said her good-byes and left RangeMan, heading home to finish packing for her trip.

The minute the elevator doors closed on her, Tank pulled out his phone and punched in a number. "I want GPS implant number 101 activated. Yes, Stephanie Plum. Do a level three trace until further notice. All reports are classified and come directly to me, understood?" At the affirmative answer, he snapped his phone shut. Stephanie might have her spidey-sense, but his gut never failed him either.

Two days later, unaware that her every movement was being monitored by a tracking device implanted in her scalp at the back of her head, Stephanie was handed into Barton Thrasher's limo. She was driven to Teterboro Airport where Barton and Zoë accompanied her aboard his luxurious private jet and before she had finished her first peach bellini, they were over the Atlantic, on their way to Ireland.

RSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSR

Ramon Escobar was lounging on his bunk, collecting the gifts that were considered more valuable than gold here in prison…cigarettes, candy bars, drugs. Like a king, he smiled and nodded, waving to his subjects who had come to flatter and fawn over him, hoping to win favor. He craved the attention, even demanded it, to feed his insatiable ego.

But what was so necessary to Ramon was alien to Ranger. This was a dangerous game that he had to play, one slip … just one, and it was all over. One misstep, one lapse, one person who suspected that he wasn't Ramon and everything would be lost. It was a heavy responsibility to bear, knowing that he was the only one who could carry out this mission, knowing that national security depended on it.

He was stoic when he thought about everything that he had withstood in these last months. The pain of the surgeries that he had endured, the humiliations that he had been subjected to, the loss of his own face in the mirror, even the loss of his own life, were all necessary for the success of the mission.

He was a soldier and had always done his duty. He had always focused on the goal with a cold, clinical eye; there had never been any emotion involved, just a job to be done. But this time there was Stephanie and she made everything different. When he thought about what she had gone through, what he had put her through, for the first time in his life, he felt guilty. If he fucked this up, everything she had endured would all be meaningless … would all have been for nothing. That wasn't an option.

He watched the smiling faces of the men who surrounded him, knowing that any one of them would slit his throat in a heartbeat, just to take his place, Ramon's place. He had to be careful … very careful.

Only one man here could be trusted not to stick a knife in him the minute he turned his back. Ranger knew that Che's loyalty was absolute, but still, he needed to be on guard. Che had already killed for Ramon; there was no question that Che would die protecting him.

Looking relaxed and nonchalant, Che was studying everyone who came to pay their respects to Ramon, looking for anything that would indicate an attack. Ramon was different since his return, and Che was waiting for somebody to pick up on it. When they did, there would be trouble, no doubt about it. Che wasn't sure when it would happen, but his instincts told him that eventually Ramon's luck would run out, if not here, then on the outside. And Che had always trusted his instincts, because at the end of the day, they were the only thing that had kept him alive this long.

The whole prison knew that Ramon was being released in a matter of days and the bidding war for positions in his organization was hot and heavy. Everyone with information of any kind was spilling what they knew to him. He sat like a priest hearing confession, informants whispering in his ear. One gave him the news of the attack on Alexander Ramos' compound almost before the gun smoke had cleared. Another, that Nikolas Ramos' woman was in the thick of the battle and had saved Ramos' life by gunning down his would-be assassin. Yet another passed on the rumor had it there was going to be a wedding.

Che tensed, watching as Ramon heard the news, worried that he would react. But he just nodded, rewarding each reporter according to the importance of the information they gave, and no one left empty-handed. Neither facial expression nor body language revealed any emotion and Che relaxed his guard, but only a little.

Two of Ramon's groupies, Paco and Tony, hung around the doorway. Dumb and Dumber, as he and Che had dubbed them, were two car thieves from Jersey. For as stupid as they were, they'd actually been pretty successful in their chosen profession, Ranger thought, until they decided to take one of those cars to a New York state chop shop, with the driver still behind the wheel. They thought it was really cool to sit in the back seat with their guns trained on the poor guy, who chauffeured them across state lines. That moved them right up the ladder from grand theft auto to kidnapping … a federal offense. They would be out in another month, with plans to return to Jersey, and they were lobbying hard for him to give them jobs.

"Hey Ramon," Paco, the brighter one of the pair called out, "did you know that Ramos' woman used to be that Manoso guy's snatch?" He laughed, "She's not all that hot so she's gotta have _some _talent that don't show. Know what I mean?" He waggled his eyebrows at Ramon.

Tony, the brawn, looked at Ramon. "Ya know what? You look a little like Manoso. If ya didn't have the scar and the eye … you could be related." He crossed over to the table and grabbed the Trenton Monthly that lay there and flipped it open to the picture of Stephanie and Ranger. "See? Look, you could be … cousins or brothers or somethin'. That's why we gave the magazine to Che, to show you." Tony was trying for brownie points.

Paco looked over Tony's shoulder and snorted. "Yeah, you could be the _ugly_ brother! Ha! The Ugly Manoso, that's funny!" They went off into gales of laughter until they realized that everybody else was edging toward the cell door. Silence hung heavy in the air as the men waited to see if Ramon would lose his infamous temper. Paco and Tony didn't wait for a reaction, just quickly put the magazine back on the table and retreated into the corridor.

Paco turned on Tony and gave him a shot in the shoulder and hissed, "Real smart, pissing off Ramon, asshole!"

"Me? You, nuts? I didn't call him ugly! That was real bright! We don't got no chance of getting' a job now!"

Ramon and Che exchanged a look as the other men held their breaths. Everyone had seen the results of Ramon's temper and nobody wanted to be caught between him and the object of his rage. He got up off his bunk and stalked out into the corridor with his fists clinched, the men stepping back quickly to let him through. Che and the rest of the bunch who were in his cell followed him, wondering if he would kill the two.

Ramon grabbed a panicked Tony and Paco by the backs of their necks and slammed them face first into the wall.

"So, you think you're funny?" He hissed at them. "Me vez riendo me, cabron?" He pulled them back and slammed them into the wall again.

The two were whimpering and Paco had tears running down his face, whining, "Oh Dios, Oh God, Oh Dios!" Tony had his eyes squeezed shut and was repeating "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, …por favor ten piedad!"

Ramon shook both of them. "I'm ugly, maricon?" They both shook their heads. "Cuando termine contigo vas a saber lo que es ser feo," he whispered viciously in Paco's ear. "Che! Gimme a shiv!" Paco's eyes rolled back in his head and he slid down the wall to the floor in a dead faint. Ramon let go of Tony who staggered away to his cell, holding himself between his legs leaving a liquid trail behind him.

Ramon turned toward Che and the rest of the group and his face split a malevolent grin. He held out his hands and shrugged, "One outta two ain't bad. But the other one pissed himself!" and he threw back his head and started to laugh. The group surrounded him, slapping him on the back and laughing at his joke.

Ramon turned to Che, "When Paco comes to, tell the pussy that they have jobs if they can get to Jersey without getting into any more trouble."

Che looked at him in surprise. "Ay, Dios mio! You're gonna give 'em jobs? As what, your court jesters?"

"They have a lot of automotive experience. They can wash the cars." Ramon quipped and naturally, everyone laughed.

As he got back to his cell, Ramon waved his hand, dismissing his hangers-on. The group quickly disappeared and Ramon threw himself onto his bunk, scrubbing his hands over his face. Che leaned against the doorway and silently watched him.

"Only five more days, Ramon," Che said conversationally. "Then you're out, free and clear. Why don't you go to Vegas for awhile, relax and play a little? You have a couple of weeks before the new house is ready, you might as well take advantage of it. Throw around some money; have the ladies make you happy, let the news spread that you're back on your game, then when you get to Jersey you can get right down to business."

"Not a bad idea, Che. You talk to the lawyer? He give you any idea when he's springing you?" Ramon lay on his bunk with his arms folded behind his head.

"He should be with the judge now," Che said with a knowing grin, "bringing him that little gift you arranged." Che rubbed the pad of his thumb over the pads of his index and middle fingers in the universal sign for money.

Ramon yawned and shrugged it off. "Who's picking me up when I get out of here?"

Che blew out a deep breath, knowing how Ramon would react. "Tiffany wants to come and get you."

Ramon sat up and ran his hands through his hair, "Mother _fucker_!" He yelled. "Just what I need. My fuckin' whore of a wife!"

Ranger and Stephanie had been friends, and lovers and partners.

He had been gone seven weeks, three days, twenty-three hours, and eleven minutes.

_**TBC …**_

_**A/N: So, what do you think the chances are that Niko and Steph will get married or that she'll wind up on that Greek island? And what the hell is Ranger going to do with Ramon's wife? Will he be able to fool her? Or will she know he isn't Ramon? Will she expect him to take her to bed? Uh-oh! Tell you what you'd like to see happen?**_

_**Thank you for all your wonderful reviews. Ranger is loving them and reads them over the phone to Steph, in Europe, so please keep 'em coming! You know that we're all Review Whores.**_

_**For a great story please read and review Truths and Realizations by MiamiBabe … it's wonderful and you don't want to miss it!**_

Me vez riendo me cabron? … Do you see me laughing, asshole.

maricon … faggot

Cuando termine contigo vas a saber lo que es ser feo. … When I get through with you, you're going to know what ugly is.

por favor ten piedad … please have mercy

Dios … God


	24. Pretend!

_**Disclaimer: Everyone belongs to Janet Evanovich except the ones that are mine, and I'm just playing.**_

_**Warnings: Language, and All 12 books.**_

_**A/N: Special thanks to Karen and Luisa and Lindsay for editing, support, friendship, suggestions, translations, and general ass kicking. **_

_**Thank you to all of you wonderful readers and reviewers. Please keep the reviews coming, Ranger says that if you want more of him in each chapter, well … you know what you have to do! The care and feeding of the male ego! Yeesh! **_

_**Don't forget to read Kashy's "Keep The Faith" … you don't want to miss it! Read and review it please, you'll be glad you did! **_

_**The Name Of The Game!**_

_**By Stayce (XJerseyGirl)**_

_**Chapter 24: Pretend!**_

Ramon slipped on his Armani sunglasses as he stepped outside into the brilliant sunlight. He felt a sense of satisfaction and relief as he listened to the heavy metal prison door clang shut behind him. Stage One was completed and no one had made him. So far, so good.

Now Stage Two was sitting in the car in front of him, Tiffany Harrington Escobar, Ramon's wife. Diego, one of Ramon's men, stood next to the car, while the uniformed chauffeur hurried over to take his duffle from his hand, and to escort him to the stretch limo that idled at the curb.

"Good to see you again, Señor Escobar." He said as he touched his cap.

Ramon didn't do small talk. "Is my wife in the car, Cruz?" he asked curtly.

The driver glanced at him nervously, "Yes, Sir." Ramon nodded.

"Where has she told you that we're going from here?"

"Back to the house, Sir." Again Ramon nodded.

"I have a surprise for my wife. You'll be taking us to the airstrip instead."

"Yes sir." If Cruz had learned anything in all the years that he had worked for men like Ramon Escobar, he had learned not to ask questions. Drivers were invisible. You saw nothing, you heard nothing, and you followed your employer's orders. And most importantly, you might be the wife's driver, but you never forgot that you worked for the husband.

Diego came forward and stood in front of Ramon, "Jefe que gusto tenerte con nosotros otra vez!" Ramon clapped him on the shoulder.

Cruz held the door open for Ramon, closing it quickly so that Señora Escobar wouldn't complain about the air conditioning escaping or the champagne warming up or her clothes wrinkling. Even stone cold sober she was a flaming bitch, and coked up the way she was now … there was no telling what she'd pull, Cruz thought as he put Ramon's duffle into the trunk and got behind the wheel, glancing over at Diego. They both had wondered what Ramon would do when he saw Tiffany, and now they were about to find out. Cruz sighed deeply and waited patiently for a signal from the back to pull away.

Ramon had slid into the cool, dim interior of the limo and sat back against the smooth leather seat. A hand held out a champagne flute to him with a tremble that he recognized as not from emotion, but an over indulgence in alcohol and drugs. He motioned his refusal. "Tiffany," he said in a bored voice and leaned forward to tap on the window, letting Cruz know he was ready to take off.

"Darling, I've missed you so much," she replied in an equally bored voice, then fortified herself by draining her champagne glass as well as the one she had offered Ramon. She delicately blotted her lips with a napkin before she turned to look at him. "Not wearing the eye patch, darling? You know how much that eye of yours disturbs me. I think you do that just to irritate me."

"I can't imagine that much would irritate you considering how well you anesthetize yourself these days, Querida," he said sarcastically as he studied her.

He shook his head as he looked her over; it was a shame, he thought, she had been a gorgeous, intelligent woman. He had seen the photographs of Tiffany with Ramon together when they had first met. She had been a woman that any man would want on his arm. Now she could pass for a denizen of Stark Street.

Tiffany looked sick, so skinny she was emaciated, her once beautiful blonde hair thin and stringy. She wore too much makeup, obviously trying to hide the ravages of her addiction, and had a boob job that would make Dolly Parton proud. She looked like a caricature of her former elegant self.

"What the fuck happened to you?" Ramon sneered at her. "You used to be beautiful and now look at you. You look like a crack whore. How much of my money have you and your playmates stuffed up your noses and burned up while I've been in prison? If you think I'm gonna keep you around and feed your habit, you got another thing coming." His lip curled as he looked away from her in disgust.

She waved her hand dismissively. "Consider it part of the divorce settlement, Ramon. I've played the devoted, dutiful wife for the past three years, keeping the home fires burning while you sat on your ass in federal prison. With your record and your reputation, the courts are going to make me a very rich woman," she said with a smug smile.

Ramon turned to her very slowly and narrowed his eyes. "You think I don't know how you disrespected me in my own home?" He asked in a low, menacing voice. "Do you think I don't know about the revolving door on your bedroom or your little crack parties?" He raised his voice. "You brought that shit into my house? You think I'm going to humiliate myself by telling the world that I married a crack whore?" He yelled at her.

Ramon could tell from the sideways glance she threw him that she was scared. She must be coming down off her high and she's realizing the trouble she's in, he thought. She kept eyeing her purse that sat on the seat between them, so he reached over and snatched it away.

Tiffany immediately screamed at him, trying to grab the bag out of his hands, yelling that it was hers. Ramon raised his hand as if to slap her and she shrank back from him, trembling as he opened the bag and dumped its contents on the seat.

He scattered the items, hunting until he found what he was looking for. A small gold pillbox that had her initial in diamonds on the lid, contained rocks of crack cocaine under a false bottom. He flicked his eyes up to hers, allowing his anger to show on his face. Without looking away from her, he opened the window and threw the pillbox out, followed by the solid gold lighter she now carried. He found her glass crack pipe in a fake lipstick tube, dropped it on the floor and stepped on it, grinding it into the carpet.

Ramon's hand shot out and he grabbed her by the arm, twisting it behind her back as he dragged her across the seat toward him. "You sucking on a glass dick now? You're a real piece of work. Do you think that I don't know who turned me in to the Feds, mi amor?" He hissed at her. "You betrayed me! And for what? Money? Drugs?" He gave her a shake. "All that crack must have rotted your brain if you think that I'm going to _divorce_ you! You've forgotten what happens to people who betray me," he roared at her as he shoved her back across the car.

She huddled in the corner of the seat, her eyes wide and her breathing ragged. "Oh God, please Ramon, I was only joking. You know that I love you. I'll do anything you want, I swear I will! I … I'll get clean … and … and we can have the kids you wanted," she babbled desperately as tears ran down her face, streaking her makeup. He could tell that she was searching for something … anything … that would save her life.

She slid off the seat onto her knees and crawled over to him, running her hands up his thighs. He grabbed her by the wrists and held her away. "I can make you feel good, Ramon. I know what you like; I'll give you a real welcome home. Please Ramon, plea …" she continued to beg.

He grabbed her face and forced her to look into his eyes. "You disgust me! I wouldn't let you put that mouth on my dog," he roared at her. "I should kill you myself, right now, and dump your ass out here in the desert where no one would ever find you." He let go of her face and fisted his hand in her hair forcing her head down onto the seat. He pounded on the glass partition and bellowed, "Diego, give me your knife!" as Tiffany screamed, clawing at his hand, fighting to get away from him.

In the front seat, Cruz and Diego look at each other. "You got a shovel in the trunk? Something tells me that I'm gonna be digging a hole," Diego said wearily.

Diego took a deep breath, "I'm sorry Jefe, I don't carry a knife." Diego purposely didn't carry one, he hated all that blood. A small caliber bullet to the heart was more his style, after all, dead was dead, right?

Cruz thanked his lucky stars that Ramon wouldn't be knifing anybody in the back of the car. Cruz had been there, done that and once was enough. Cleaning up the mess, dumping the car, getting a new one … all a big pain in the ass.

By the time they pulled off of the highway onto the gravel road that led to Ramon's private landing strip, Ramon had cooled off and Tiffany was curled into a ball on the floor of the car. Her constant whimpering was getting on Ramon's nerves, but he hoped she'd at least be convinced she wouldn't live to see tomorrow. "Shut the hell up and get back on the seat," he growled at her. "Don't you have any pride left at all?"

She crawled back up onto the seat, mascara streaking her face. She wiped her nose on the back of her hand and almost laughed at the irony of Ramon's manners when he handed her his perfectly folded linen handkerchief. "Your nose is bleeding," was all he said.

Cruz pulled the limo into the single hangar at the end of the runway where a private jet sat waiting for them. Two large men in black suits stood at parade rest near the bottom of the jet's stairway, another stood on the stairs. Cruz came around to open the door for Ramon, and Diego took up his position at Ramon's back.

He spoke briefly with them. At Ramon's nod, the two men opened the back door and pulled a hysterical Tiffany from the limo. She threw herself at Ramon's feet, her screams and pleas echoing through the metal hangar.

He bent to look into her face, his tone cold and uncaring, "Don't make this more difficult that it has to be, Tiffany. Just relax and accept your fate, you've earned it." She was being carried, kicking and screaming, onto the plane as Ramon stepped back into the limo, her cries ringing in his ears as the limo pulled out of the hangar and headed for Las Vegas.

Ramon scrubbed his hands over his face and leaned back in the seat. He was exhausted. It was both physically and emotionally draining to impersonate a madman like Ramon, Ranger thought, massaging his aching head. It went against his nature to manhandle a woman the way he had Tiffany. In actuality, she had been lucky. He had only pushed her around a little. Ramon would have slit her throat.

Tiffany would never know that it was the government that had commuted her death sentence. He almost smiled at the thought of her surprise when she found herself in a luxury rehab facility half a world away, instead of being marched off to her death at the hands of Ramon's paid killers.

RSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRS

Stephanie was lying in a lounge chair, under an umbrella, on a beach somewhere on the Cote d'Azur in France. Barton Thrasher was meeting with some government official or another, and Stephanie and Zoë were spending the day on the beach, working on their tans. Well, Steph was working on her tan and Zoë was working on the boys under Steph's watchful eye.

Zoë turned out to be a pretty nice kid who just needed some attention, and luckily, Thrasher was providing it. Better late than never, Steph thought.

Barton Thrasher spent every morning in business meetings all over Europe. By the end of the first week, Steph had to ask where they were. If the city didn't have Big Ben or the Eiffel Tower or the Vatican, she had no idea where she was. Zoë didn't care where they were as long as there were cute boys, teen dance clubs, and shopping.

The kid, who didn't even know that England had a Queen, could convert dollars into Pounds or Euros at warp speed. She impressed Stephanie with her shopping capabilities, and they had spent marathon shopping days in every major city they had hit. Thrasher was as generous with Stephanie as he was with Zoë, and from the number of her purchases, Steph was glad that Thrasher had his own plane. This way, there were no weight limits!

Most afternoons had been spent sight seeing, not difficult when there was a chauffeur driven car and a private guide at your disposal. Great Britain, from Wales to England to Scotland, flew by and Stephanie mostly remembered the shopping spree on Oxford St. in London. Rome … Oh my God! Rome! Steph had happily eaten her way from one end of the city to the other … gelato and pasta and pizza, oh my! She had worked off all those calories on trips up and down the Spanish Steps. Now they were in Paris with its Eiffel Tower and couture houses and the Champs Elysees.

Evenings were spent over dinner at some fabulous home or world renowned restaurant, entertaining or being entertained by the rich and famous of whatever city they were in. Occasionally Steph would beg off and stay in the hotel, ordering comfort food from room service and watching TV in her jammies. She'd call home and chat with her Mom or Mary Lou or Lula without ever really telling anyone where she was.

True to her promise, Steph kept in touch with Tank, calling him every couple of days at RangeMan. She had called him from Paris because she just _had_ to tell somebody where she was. She didn't think she could be on the phone with one of her girlfriends and not squeal that she was in her own suite at the George V Hotel with views of the city she had only seen on TV _and _her own maid. The bedroom alone was bigger than her old apartment had been, and after this trip she would be well and truly versed in the real meaning of the word luxury!

This was another one of those stay in nights, but for everybody this time. They had just landed in Geneva and they were all too tired to take on the city tonight. It was the perfect time to call Tank again.

"Hey Bombshell! How's the babysitting going?" She could hear the smile in his voice.

"Oh, it's never dull! If she isn't chasing the boys, they're chasing her," Steph told him with a laugh.

Tank chuckled. "I see trouble in Barton Thrasher's future."

"Poor guy is totally clueless. He has no idea what to expect." Steph shook her head in sympathy.

"Not to bring you down, Bomber, there have been a couple of people looking for you."

"Crap! Do I really want to know, Tank?"

"Want to and need to are two very different things in this case, Steph." Tank, the voice of reason, lectured.

"Oh, I know," she said with a deep sigh. "So who's asking questions?"

"Well, Hal tells me that Niko has called twice a day, everyday, to see if you've come home yet. Hal told him that he hasn't seen you for over two weeks, which is the truth after all. Niko wants you to get in touch with him."

"Damn! I keep hoping that they'll forget about me and it'll all just go away." Steph said in exasperation and rubbed her twitching eye. Denial wasn't working here.

"Not likely! The papers have been filled with uncorroborated reports of a gun battle on the beach in Deal. No names were mentioned, but everybody knows who they were talking about. There have been front page stories about the boatload of dead Red Mafia members that washed up on Brighton Beach the day after said shoot out! Word on the street is that the turf war is on."

"Maybe I should just stay here in Europe permanently, change my name, straighten my hair, get a boob job…"

"If that's what you want, why don't you just marry Niko? Didn't he say he'd be glad to keep you on a Greek island?" he said brightly.

"Taaaaank!" she whined. "You aren't helping! Gimme a break here!"

"Sorry, I couldn't resist. Okay, back to business. It seems that the second guy is Alexander Ramos' lawyer, Aristotle Panopolous. I checked him out and he's legit." Tank hesitated a second, "I figure he has the pre-nup for you to sign."

Steph rolled her eyes as she heard Tank howling with laughter, obviously very pleased with himself.

"Okay," he choked out, "I'm through." She could practically hear him wiping his eyes.

"I'll say you are! Just wait 'til I get my hands on you!" She said rather sourly. "Is that all the good news you have for me tonight or are there more treats?"

"Nope, Steph, that's it. Do you have any idea how much longer you'll be gone?"

She sighed, "Not a clue. Every time I turn around, the schedule changes and another city or two is added. The day after tomorrow we're off to Berlin. I guess this makes me a world traveler, huh?"

They said their good-byes and Steph promised to call him in a couple of days. As she climbed into bed she remembered that she had wanted to tell him about something strange that had happened in Paris. It left her with a peculiar feeling, and she got chills every time she thought about it.

She and Zoë had been shopping. They were sitting in a sidewalk café when she got the feeling that someone was watching her. She could actually feel someone's eyes on her, the sensation was so intense. Without being obvious, she looked around and finally glimpsed a man standing in a third floor window of a building across the street. As soon as he realized that she saw him, he stepped back, out of her view.

She hadn't thought anything more than that it was probably a local watching the crass tourists who infested his city. That is, until they went to the Louvre and there he was again, following them through the museum. Afraid that there was going to be another kidnapping attempt made on Zoë, Stephanie had pushed the panic button she carried. She grabbed Zoë's hand and the two of them raced through the museum, a surefire way to attract the attention of every Security Guard in the place. Louvre Security alerted the police and Steph and Zoë were escorted to their limo by armed guards.

One call to Barton Thrasher and the security detail on Zoë was doubled. By the time they got back to the hotel, their luggage was being packed and the plane was waiting for them at the airport. Surrounded by armed security guards and gendarmes they were escorted out the service entrance to a waiting limo for the trip to the airport.

As Steph waited to get into the vehicle, she felt those eyes on her again. With her spidey sense on high alert, she spotted him in seconds, standing on the corner, watching her … not Zoë, not Barton Thrasher ... he was watching her.

RSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSR

Ramon actually dozed on the massage table as the Bellagio's masseur worked out the knots in his back and shoulders. Things had gone better than he expected these last two weeks and he was finally able to relax a little bit. Now that Che was here to watch his back, he could really get into living Ramon's life.

"Señor Escobar …" Roberts said softly as Ramon yawned and turned his head toward the butler.

"Well?" He said, without opening his eyes.

"You have a visitor waiting downstairs at the desk."

"Who?" He muttered sleepily.

"Victor Ruiz, Sir," the butler's informed him in his clipped British accent.

Ramon rose up to lean on his forearms and thought for a second before he looked over at Che who was lounging in the doorway, coffee cup in hand. He gave Che his signature sneering smile, then said to Roberts, "Have them tell Señor Ruiz that when I wish to speak with him, _I_ will send for _him_."

Roberts gave a nod, picked up the house phone and relayed the message to the desk, then waited for Ramon to dismiss him.

Che barked a laugh at the very public insult that Victor Ruiz would be receiving. In no time, word would be all over the city that Ramon had refused to see Ruiz, his own lawyer, his most trusted advisor and confidant, the man who had been left in charge while Ramon was in prison. The message would be crystal clear. Ruiz had fallen from grace and if he had an iota of common sense, he would disappear, fast, before Ramon had a chance to make him disappear.

"Think he's smart enough to realize that it won't do him any good to run?" Che asked, more for Roberts' benefit than for anything else.

"Dios, the son of a bitch thinks I don't know he was fucking my wife? That he stole from me?" Ramon yelled, getting off the massage table and wrapping a towel around his waist. "He betrayed me just like that whore did. I showed her how smart she really was! Now I'm gonna show him! When I get my hands on that motherfucker, he'll be begging me to kill him … I'm going to cut off his balls and make him eat them! He thinks he can cheat me?" Ramon was screaming by now. Roberts blanched and looked panicked. Che just waved him off and the butler fled from the room as Ramon worked himself up into a rage, pacing and ranting.

The masseur had tried to make himself invisible, afraid of attracting Ramon's wrath. Che shoved a couple of hundred dollar bills into the man's hand and he had quickly folded up his table and left as well.

Word had spread quickly that Ramon had 'lost' his wife and everybody in Vegas knew exactly what that meant, especially when they heard that he had out of town talent come to take care of his 'personal problem'. It became clear that while the cat was away, the rats had played.

A couple of the men who had been in Ramon's inner circle and had been his lieutenants in the organization, had suddenly disappeared. Rumor had it that they had had close, personal relationships with Tiffany and that they had been helping themselves to more than their fair share of the profits.

Headlines in all the local newspapers had screamed that bodies were being found out in the desert around Las Vegas, missing their heads, hands, and genitals. The message was clear, the cat was back in town, and he was killing off the rats.

It had been a busy two weeks for Ramon. After putting Tiffany on the plane, the limo had headed for Las Vegas rather than Ramon's house several hundred miles away. He did all the things that Ramon would have done when he got out of prison. He made the bank his first stop. The safety deposit box contained jewelry, weapons, and cash … everything Ramon needed to resume his life. As he put on Ramon's antique Patek Phillipe wristwatch and slipped on the signet ring, he had a flash of what this man could have been. Ramon was well educated, intelligent, a good businessman who could have been successful at anything. He couldn't figure out why anyone would choose _this _life.

Diego helped him into the shoulder holster and he slipped the other gun into his waistband at the small of his back, a knife sheath strapped to his leg. And then it struck him, here he was, carrying two guns and a knife … again. Maybe their lives weren't so different after all.

This was Stage Three of the Mission and was the most dangerous part of all. Surrounded by those who knew Ramon the best, Ranger couldn't afford to let the façade slip, even once. To let down his guard, to risk exposure, the mission could be lost. He couldn't take any chances … he had to be more Ramon than Ramon was.

Ranger could feel himself morphing into the man. He looked like Ramon, had learned to walk like him, talk like him, fight like him, think like him. It had all become second nature and when he looked at his reflection as he walked out through the bank's mirrored doors, he realized that bit by bit he was losing himself. Every time he looked, he saw more Ramon and less Ranger.

By the time Cruz pulled the limo up to the Bellagio where Ramon kept a penthouse suite, the General Manager and Executive Staff had been alerted and were waiting to greet him. As he was escorted through the hotel, the staff hustled to stage the apartment with all of Ramon's favorite things … the best Champagne and caviar, lobster, wine, cheese, chocolates, flowers, fruits ... Ramon demanded preferential treatment, and he got what he paid for.

"Señor Escobar, what a pleasure to have you back with us after so long." The manager gushed. "If there is anything at all that you want or need, anything that we can arrange for you to make you stay with us more pleasurable, please let us know."

He resisted the urge to laugh at the insincerity of them all. He nodded and waved the way Ramon would have, as the staff fawned over him. "Clothes. I'll need a new wardrobe, find me a tailor. And a barber, and arrange a personal trainer. Oh, and I'll want a massage every day," Ramon dictated and several of the staff whipped out a phones, and started making calls.

"Will this afternoon be convenient for the tailor, Sir," the pretty young woman standing in front of him asked, as she typed on her Blackberry. Her eyes snapped up to his face and she froze in horror as he ran his fingers down her cheek and throat and into her cleavage.

"Will this afternoon be convenient for _you_, querida?" Ramon bent to whisper in her ear. "I have not had a woman in a very long time. I promise you an afternoon that you won't forget." She stood staring at him as he stepped onto the elevator, opening and closing her mouth like a goldfish. He threw back his head and laughed as the elevator doors closed between them.

The Concierge discreetly assured Ramon that he would be more than happy to arrange for 'companionship' any time Ramon required it. Ramon just slapped him on the shoulder and winked at the man.

In reality it served his purposes to be here. The Feds had decided that living in the hotel might actually help to keep him alive long enough to complete the mission. The suite had its own private elevator, guarded by a security service, read Federal Agents.

The penthouse itself had a full staff, including a butler, who would screen each visitor, thereby limiting contact with Ramon's enemies, who wanted to kill him, as well as his men, who might spot the imposter. He sincerely doubted that Ramon had any friends to worry about. The staff provided another layer of security, so that no on would ever catch him off guard. After all, he had to sleep _sometime_.

That had been more than two weeks ago. Since then, he had played Ramon to the hilt, buying everything from clothing to cars to jewelry. He threw lavish dinner parties to entertain Ramon's men and dropped mind boggling sums of money in the casinos. He tipped liberally, everybody from the parking valets to the maids. Everybody was always happy to see Ramon show up.

At least, he thought gratefully, he was able to beg off the wild nights of drinking and fucking and closing down strip clubs that Ramon and his crew were famous for. He blamed it all on the medications he was taking since the stroke. Food didn't taste the same, he told them, and alcohol reacted badly with the meds, making him nauseous.

Apparently no one ever questioned anything that Ramon said or did, because no one even blinked when he didn't join wholeheartedly in the fun. Still, he stuffed hundred dollar bills into g-strings, squeezed fake boobs, smacked asses and played tonsil hockey with women who had more fake body parts than real ones. After only a few days of living it, he was already tired of this lifestyle. Ramon's life wore very thin, very fast.

It was about 7am when he and Che dragged back into the hotel after yet another night of carousing. All he wanted to do was take a shower, wash the stench of cheap perfume and cigarette smoke off of him, fall into bed and sleep for a week. Roberts opened the penthouse door for them and asked when they wanted breakfast. Ramon just shook his head and headed for his bedroom.

He opened the door to find a pretty blonde chambermaid changing the unused sheets on the bed. He gave her a hundred dollar bill and told her not to bother as he headed for the bathroom, dropping his clothes on the floor in a very Ramon-like gesture as he walked across the room.

Three minutes later he was standing in the shower, bracing his hands against the glass wall, head bent, letting the hot water pound onto the back of his neck. Out of the corner of his eye he caught a movement and turned his head to find the maid standing outside the shower, staring at him. His eyes met hers and he saw something in them, something that he recognized. She licked her lips and took a step toward him.

Just as she dropped the towel she was holding, he realized that it had covered the gun in her hand. He hit a lever in the shower and steam filled the glass cube. Instinctively, he crouched down, hidden by the thick steam and heard her say, "Victor Ruiz says good-bye," then a soft 'pop' and the glass walls exploded around him.

Millions of tiny shards of glass filled the air, then fell to the floor, shimmering like ice crystals in the lights. The steam immediately dissipated and he hurled himself out of the shower before she could fire again. She screamed as he grabbed her, his momentum carrying them both to the glass covered floor. She clawed at him, fighting to get away, as he wrestled the gun out of her hand.

The bathroom door slammed open and Che and Diego, guns drawn, charged into the room. They helped Ramon to his feet and Diego picked the woman up off the floor. She turned on Ramon like a wildcat, scratching and kicking, trying to bite him, screaming that he had tried to rape her.

Roberts was standing in the bathroom doorway and pointed out that Ramon was bleeding from dozens of tiny glass cuts. Handing him a clean towel, Roberts calmly called the house physician to take care of Ramon, maintenance to take care of the bathroom, and the private security company that manned the elevators to take care of the maid.

By the time Ramon and Che sat down to breakfast a lot later, the newspaper headlines screamed about the latest body that had been found in the desert. Like the others, it had no head, no hands, and no genitals. On a back page was a small article about a local lawyer who had gone missing. Victor Ruiz's Mercedes had been found on the shoulder of the highway in the middle of the desert, still running, driver's door standing open, but no sign of Victor. Another rat taken care of.

Ramon folded his paper and looked at Che. "It looks like we took care of everything we came here to do. I think it's time to head east."

"It'll be good to go home," Che said with a wistful smile.

Ranger stood and went out onto to balcony to look at the Bellagio's dancing fountains. _Home,_ he thought. _Home had been Stephanie. __Whenever he was in her arms, he was home. She was the only home he ever wanted or needed, and Oh God! How he wanted to go home._

RSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRS

Barton Thrasher's private jet circled Teterboro Airport waiting for its turn to land. The trip to Europe had been wonderful. Stephanie had called her family and friends regularly, so it wasn't like she had missed anything, but five weeks was still a long time to be gone.

She had argued back and forth with herself over calling Niko, guilt finally making her pick up the phone. It turned out that she was glad she did. He thought that she had run away out of fear, and she admitted that she thought they all needed a little distance from each other. He apologized for not being truthful with her about his involvement with the Family Business and asked if she would have dinner with him when she got back. He laughingly said that he'd come alone and she could pick the place and bring her bodyguards. She agreed that they could still be friends and promised to call when she got back.

The plane touched down and taxied to the small terminal so that they could go through customs. They came down the stairway into the early fall evening and crossed the tarmac into the building to wait for their luggage to be unloaded.

RSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSSR

Ramon Escobar's private jet circled Teterboro Airport waiting for its turn to land. It had been a long time since he or Che had been back to New Jersey, and while they wouldn't be going to Trenton, it was still familiar territory. They both wished that they could touch base with friends, but they had a mission to complete and neither of them could afford to be selfish.

Ramon had chosen his East Coast gang carefully. He needed to surround himself with people who had limited connection with the original Ramon. Roberts had agreed to leave the Bellagio and come to New Jersey to be Ramon's majordomo, running the house for him, hiring staff, making sure his day to day life ran smoothly. Some of Ramon's men, mostly muscle who hadn't worked closely with him before he went to prison, had agreed to relocate as well. Paco and Tony had been released from prison and were driving from Nevada to New Jersey but Che was laying bets that they would wind up in Canada first.

Stage Four of the Mission, the most delicate part would start now. This would be the make or break part, where all of his shrewdness would be necessary. This wouldn't be Ramon at play, this would be Ramon negotiating, arranging, facilitating. This would be the Ramon who built a reputation for being able to get anything done. You could have whatever you wanted, whenever you wanted, wherever you wanted it … if you could pay Ramon's price.

The plane touched down and taxied to the small terminal so that they could walk through to the parking lot where the limos sat waiting for them. They came down the stairway into the early fall evening and crossed the tarmac into the building to wait for their luggage to be unloaded.

RSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRS

Stephanie walked out of the Customs Office at the far end of the terminal with Barton and Zoë Thrasher and the crew from their plane. Almost immediately she felt the familiar tingle run down her spine. It was how she always knew that Ranger was near. But Ranger was dead and she looked around to see if she could tell what was causing it to happen now, after all these months.

She only saw a boisterous group surrounding a man who she couldn't quite see as they crossed to the other side of the building. It looked like the man hesitated for a few seconds before continuing on.

Ramon walked through the door that Roberts held open for him, and headed across the terminal. Almost immediately he felt that familiar ache around his heart. It was how he always knew that Stephanie was near. But she loved someone else and he looked around to see if he could tell what was causing it to happen now, after all these months.

He only saw a boisterous group surrounding a woman who he couldn't quite see as they crossed to the other side of the building. It looked like the woman hesitated for a few seconds before continuing on.

Ranger and Stephanie had been friends and lovers and partners.

He had been gone three months, one week, four days, seventeen hours, and fifty-nine minutes.

_**TBC …**_

_**A/N: Well, 'Ramon' is back in New Jersey. What do you think the chances are that he and Steph will run into one another? If they do, where will it be? Will they just see each other, or will they meet? What will happen with Niko and the Ramos Family? And what do you think the mission is? Do you think that Steph will get involved in it? Tell me what you'd like to see happen!**_

_**Thank you for all of your wonderful reviews and kind words. I'm still addicted to them, each one of them is like a fix! LOL! Thanks for keeping me high! **_

_**Oh, and don't forget to read and review Babe and the Pod of Whales by Polysgirl … it's hysterical!**_

"Jefe que gusto tenerte con nosotros otra vez." "It's good to have you back with us boss."


	25. Trouble!

_**Disclaimer: Everyone belongs to Janet Evanovich except the ones that are mine, and I'm just playing.**_

_**Warnings: All 12 books, **_

_**A/N: Special thanks to Karen and Luisa and Lindsay and Lisa for editing, support, friendship, suggestions, translations, and general ass kicking. **_

_**Thank you to all of you wonderful readers and reviewers. Please keep the reviews and comments coming, you have no idea how much they're appreciated!!!**_

_**Don't forget to read Kashy's "Keep The Faith" … you don't want to miss it! Read and review it please, you'll be glad you did! **_

_**The Name Of The Game!**_

_**By Stayce (XJerseyGirl)**_

_**Chapter 25: Trouble!**_

Steph leaned over and gave Tank a quick kiss before she slid into the back booth at Pino's. Her timing was perfect and she sat down just as the waitress brought the pitcher of beer and two icy mugs that Tank had asked for, and then took their food order. He filled her glass and slid it across the table to her. Steph raised it in salute before she gulped down half of it and leaned back in the booth with her eyes closed.

She licked her lips and sighed, "God! That tastes good!" She held her mug in both hands and smiled at him. "Thanks Tank, this is just what I needed."

"Get tired of all that fancy food, did ya?" Tank asked with a grin.

She snorted. "Don't go there Tank. I ate my way from one end of Europe to the other and back again and I loved every single mouthful! I'm surprised I don't look like a beached whale!" She looked down at herself, "I don't … do I?" She looked at him in panic.

He chuckled, "No Bombshell, you look gorgeous." He shook his head indulgently.

The waitress reappeared and placed their extra-large supreme pizza on the table with a stack of extra napkins.

Stephanie's eyes fluttered shut again as she inhaled the delicious aroma. They both picked up pieces of the steaming pie and as she folded hers, she sighed, "Come to mama!" and stuffed a huge bite into her mouth. "Oh my God! There's no place like home!" she said around the food in her mouth.

"Okay Dorothy, what did you do with Toto and the ruby slippers?" Tank asked with a laugh.

"Go ahead, make fun. But five weeks is a long time to be away from home. Maybe not for _you!_ You guys go off to save the world for months at a time, but this is me we're talking about. Living out of a suitcase even when you have somebody to unpack it and then pack it back up again, never sleeping in the same bed for more than a night or all those trips to the airport, even if it was on a private plane and yo…"

Tank looked down into the beer as he swirled it around in his mug. His thoughts turned to all those missions when they had been gone for months at a time, living in the same clothes for weeks, sleeping on the ground, in caves, in bombed out buildings … running through the jungles or mountains or villages, eating anything they could get their hands on, hungry most of the time, one step ahead of whatever bunch of guys wanted them dead this time. Now they would sit around and reminisce about those missions, "Do you remember when you and Lester" or "How about the time …" as if they were the good old days.

But by unspoken agreement, no one ever talked about their Lazarus mission, only that they had been called for one. These were the ones that they weren't supposed to come back from, these were the suicide missions. Their friends stood behind them and took care of their families and loved ones, like he and Bobby would look after Steph for Ranger.

He and Bobby had already been called for their Lazarus missions. He had been sent to Africa, to a country so poor that most of the warring tribes didn't even have guns, so they hacked each other to pieces with machetes. His purpose for going to that genocide devastated hell hole was to facilitate the escape of a tribal leader being held by the opposing faction. Halfway through his mission, the political climate changed, and he was pulled out. Two-thirds of his team had died for no reason, for nothing at all, and he still wore the scars, on his body and on his soul. He was one of the lucky ones, he came home.

Tank didn't know where Bobby had been sent or why, but he had been gone for eight months and just showed up for work one morning like he hadn't missed a day. He came back a changed man, though. It was almost a whole year before anybody saw Bobby smile.

Ranger was the last of their unit to be called. It had been so long, they all thought that he had been forgotten, so it came as kind of a shock when he got that phone call. Just the voice that said, "Lazarus." That one word was all it took. He wondered if Ranger was still alive or if he was lying in some unmarked grave or held prisoner in some hell hole on the other side of the world. Unless he walked in the door, they would never know what happened to him.

They had all been so young when they signed up for the Lazarus Team, they were so filled with bravado and that overwhelming sense of immortality that only the very young and very stupid have. Only two of the twenty-nine members who had been assigned missions had survived, Bobby and himself. He could only pray that Ranger would beat the odds too.

"Tank?" Stephanie's voice was soft, concerned. "Tank?" She reached across the table and touched his hand.

He startled and snapped his eyes up to hers, "I'm sorry Bombshell, I guess I was lost in thought. So, tell me all about your trip." He said with a forced smile and wrapped his fingers around hers.

Steph sat and studied him for several long seconds. "Those weren't very happy thoughts, were they?" He just smiled and gave a little shake of his head. Her eyes widened, all of a sudden she knew what he had been thinking about. "You were thinking about Ranger, weren't you?"

"Your spidey sense been upgraded to mind reading too?" he teased a little sadly.

She looked away, out the window at the falling darkness. "I think about him every day, Tank. I still have a tough time reminding myself that even if he was alive, we wouldn't be together." She gave a rueful laugh and shrugged her shoulders, "The fact that he didn't love me anymore keeps escaping me."

The big man leaned down and kissed her hand. _If you only knew, Steph, if you only knew, _he thought sadly.

He decided he'd better change the subject before they both started crying in their beer. "So what's going on with the Ramos Family? The word on the street is that there's gonna be a wedding. You guys set the date yet?" He gave her an evil grin.

Steph turned her head slowly to face him and she narrowed her eyes. The glare she shot him would have made a lesser man shudder, "You better be kidding, Tank. I don't see anything funny in this at all. I'm going to dinner with Niko on Friday and we're gonna settle this once and for all."

"You're absolutely right Steph. This is a weighty subject and should be given the thought and attention that it deserves," he said apologetically as he reached across the table and took her hand. "Just remember that if you ever need help, I'll be glad to be your flower girl." He laughed and ducked as Steph threw a pizza crust at him.

RSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRS

Ramon Escobar leaned back in the leather barber chair with his eyes closed, trying to relax, while the barber removed the heated towel from his face. Sleep had been illusive this last week and Ranger was feeling the stress of living Ramon's life. This would be the make or break part of the mission, and he had to admit that he was concerned.

He had been on more missions then he could count, in what seemed to be the worst hell holes on the face of the Earth. He had been in jungles, mountains, deserts … cold, wet, hungry, exhausted … but he had been in his element, calm and in control. Now here he was, sitting in a private barber shop in a mansion that was nothing short of palatial, surrounded by a hand-picked gang, and for the first time in his life, Ranger was worried about his ability to carry out a mission.

It had all started insignificantly enough. A minor league crook with a Federal rap hanging over his head, tried to use a piece of information as a bargaining chip to get a lighter sentence. He had heard, he told the Feds, that the Russian mob in New York was trying to get their hands on weapons grade plutonium for some nutcase right here in the good old US of A. He was going to build homemade nuclear bombs and sell them to the highest bidder. Ranger could only imagine the reaction that little bomb got, no pun intended.

The Feds had worked this case for almost two years. Hundreds of agents had put in thousands of hours investigating leads, tracking down informants, and going undercover in an effort to gather information with nothing concrete to show for it. Then, after all the waiting, all the wire taps, all the undercover operations, all of the agents planted in gangs and in prisons all over the country, after all the false leads and disappointments, finally, _finally_, the contact they had been waiting for had been made. And now it was all in Ranger's hands.

Ramon was a 'facilitator,' he made things happen. He called himself an 'Acquisitions Expert' and his tax return stated that he was in 'Transportation'. The irony made Ranger smile. Ramon thought of himself as a sort of criminal Make-A-Wish Foundation, although there was nothing charitable about it. Name it and you could have it, as long as you could afford it.

What disgusted Ranger the most, was that Ramon had no conscience and would do any job for anyone who had the money.

The Feds had allowed Ramon to operate from prison hoping that his reputation for 'moving merchandise' would lure the Russians into making contact with him. And finally, that's just what they did. Even though he was inside the walls of a Federal penitentiary, Ramon was still able to arrange for Russian 'brides' to be brought into the country for the Red Mafia's prostitution rings. He had brokered arms deals to bring weapons from Eastern Europe to Central American rebels and had delivered huge loads of Colombian drugs right into the middle of The Port of Authority of NY-NJ without so much as having a drug sniffing dog sneeze. Each deal was bigger, more dangerous, and more lucrative than the last, and each deal solidified their trust in him.

This time it was different, though. This time, the Russians refused to deal with any of Ramon's representatives, saying that this was too important to negotiate with middle-men. They wanted to meet, face to face, but only with Ramon.

The Feds knew that he couldn't be trusted; there was nothing that they could offer him to buy his loyalty. Every Federal agency involved in this mission from the CIA to the FBI to ATF to Homeland Security worked to come up with a viable plan. In the end, the only thing that might have a chance of succeeding was to replace Ramon with a look-alike. So here he sat, Carlos Manoso, wearing another man's face, living another man's life. Shit!

Ranger had never thought of himself as an actor, but that's exactly what he was now, and he better be a damned good one. He had worked with acting coaches and behavioral psychologists for months learning Ramon's gestures, his facial expressions, his reactions. He had to be conscious of every word he spoke, getting the voice right every time. He was a man who lived a life of moderation, and now he had learned to yell, to be violent, to appear to lose control, things totally alien to his own nature. And so far, he had managed to fool everyone.

Ranger knew that he would have to do more than look like Ramon from this point on. Even if the man was a lunatic, Ramon was a shrewd businessman. He was intelligent and resourceful, with a huge network of contacts he could tap in to.

He was careful never to get his hands dirty, never to leave a trail that could be followed back to himself. Ranger would have to play this game exactly the same way Ramon would, cunning and street smart and looking out for number one.

He couldn't appear anxious or impatient or too eager for fear of spooking these guys. These were the little fish who would lead the Feds to the big catch. They wanted to find the source who would be supplying the plutonium and the purchaser, who apparently had no problem with nuclear devices being detonated all over America. It was a chilling thought that any terrorist who had the money could change our way of life … forever.

RSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRRS

Stephanie snapped her phone shut and slipped it into her little satin clutch before rethinking her choice of handbag. This one was just going be too small, she thought, and went back into her closet to get a larger one. She hated to admit it to herself, but she was just a tiny bit nervous about having dinner with Niko tonight. After that whole fiasco in Deal, with the shootout and all, she was still a little leery about what Niko may have come up with as a solution to her problem.

He had dangled that quick fix in front of her like a carrot in front of a donkey to get her to agree to dinner and dancing this evening. They had compromised. She had agreed to the date, but she was going drive her own car and meet him there. Not that she didn't trust him, of course. "Of course," he had replied with a laugh.

Granted, Alexander wanted to insure her silence about the Ramos Family business, but she was pretty sure she made it clear that silent was the only thing she _wouldn't _be if they tried to force her into marriage. Yes, she liked Niko, a lot, but not enough to chance finding herself abandoned on a Greek island with a flock of little old ladies dressed in black for the rest of her life. Nope, she needed a better solution than that one.

She had called Tank to let him know what restaurant they were going to, and that she'd have her own car so she could leave if things got uncomfortable. Still, she dumped her big purse out on her bed, rooted through the pile of stuff and grabbed her little personal stun gun, tossing it into the black satin drawstring pouch she'd be carrying tonight.

She added her lip gloss and driver's license and cell phone. She threw in some money and a couple of Kleenex and went to check her hair in the mirror. She had gotten highlights put in her hair in Germany … maybe it was Italy, or Portugal … _someplace_, anyway, she got highlights and they made her curls look bright and shiny. When she tossed her head, they fell to her shoulders in that slightly mussed, sexy look that men seemed to like so much. She dabbed some perfume on her neck and into her cleavage, and deemed herself good to go.

She hesitated as she passed her bed, grabbed the mini pepper spray and added it to her purse before she gave a final twirl in front of the full length mirror. She had to admit that she was pleased with what she saw there. She still sported that great tan that she had worked so hard to acquire on the beaches of France and Italy and Spain. Well, that is if you considered it hard work to just lie there and bake in the sun while a steady stream of handsome young men volunteered to apply suntan lotion. Yup, that had been hard work alright, she thought with a wistful smile.

She really wasn't going for sexy tonight, more like chic but whatever it had turned out to be, she thought she looked pretty damned good. She wore a simple black silk dress with a swirly skirt just made for dancing, that she had picked up in France. It was the most expensive piece of clothing that she had ever bought in her whole life, but it was a magic dress. It made her boobs look bigger and her waist look smaller and her legs look longer, so she figured that it was worth every penny … franc … Euro, whatever, it was worth it. The restaurant they were going to tonight was one of her favorites and had a dance floor with a wonderful band, so she was pretty sure she'd be putting the dress to good use.

Her hand on the bedroom doorknob, Steph glanced toward her bed with a sigh, and went back and picked up the gun. She looked down at it in her hand and gave some real thought to wearing her thigh holster and the little Berretta Cheetah, but rolled her eyes and decided that was a bit much, even for her, so she just put the gun back on her bed.

She actually felt a little guilty that she had considered bringing a gun, and she made it all the way over to the door again before she hurried back to the bed and stuffed the gun in her purse. At this rate, she thought, she might as well be wearing her utility belt with cuffs and Mag light and everything!

Steph could smell dinner cooking and she stuck her head into the kitchen, looking for Hal, but the room was empty. She dropped a grape and a carrot into Rex's cage and he did a flying dismount from his exercise wheel to stuff them into his cheeks. He gifted her with a whisker twitch before he scurried into his soup can, apparently forgiving her for abandoning him while she was in Europe. "Night Baby, don't wait up, Mom's gonna be late," she whispered to him. He wiggled his furry little butt in response.

She giggled when she found out where Hal was. He and Connie were on the couch in the living room, making out like a couple of teenagers.

Steph looked at the floor while she cleared her throat. "Hi guys! Just passing through!" She said with a laugh. She shielded her eyes as she headed for the door. Hal and Connie sat up quickly, adjusting their clothes.

"Oh Jeez, Steph! I keep forgetting that you're home!" Hal mumbled, his face bright red with embarrassment. Connie just leaned her head against him and laughed, soft and sexy.

"You two just go back to what you were doing! I'm gonna be late, so don't worry about me." She gave them a wave and as she walked out the door she heard Hal say to Connie, "Come here you sweet little thing!" Connie just said, "Ummmmmm!"

Steph pulled her wrap around her shoulders and was half-way down the front steps when she saw Niko leaning against his Aston Martin, his ankles crossed and his arms folded over his chest. As soon as he saw her, he broke into his devastating smile, making her heart stutter in her chest.

Oh, this is _SO_ not good, she thought as he walked toward her. Her mouth went dry as she watched his long, lanky stride. If she had been horny before, now she was in serious need of several earth shattering orgasms, like right now, and she was sure that the man standing in front of her could do the job. She sincerely hoped that he didn't suggest skipping dinner and going somewhere else because she didn't think that the word 'no' was in her vocabulary.

She stopped on the bottom step and Niko walked up to her, put his hands around her waist and pulled her flush against his body. "Jesus, I missed you Stephanie," and he fused his mouth to hers. The kiss was hot and deep and carried a clear message between them. He slid his hands up her back and she angled her head so that they could deepen the kiss. When they finally broke apart, they were both breathless. He nuzzled her face, rubbing his cheek against hers, "You feel so good," he whispered against her ear and a shiver flashed through her body as his teeth grazed her earlobe.

She turned her face to find his mouth again and he wrapped his arms around her, holding her to him. She whimpered as their tongues dueled for control of the kiss and when she moved against him, she felt his body respond to hers. From out of the dark a voice barked sternly, "Hey you two! Get a room!" Old Mr. Jacoby from two doors down chuckled as he walked past with his dog and called back over his shoulder, "You're giving me flashbacks! Mona might get lucky tonight!" His laughter receded into the dark.

It took everything she had in her to put her hands on Niko's chest and push him away. She knew that if she didn't put some space between them, she'd throw him down on the sidewalk and ride him like a racehorse. Certainly not something she'd want Mr. Jacoby to see. She couldn't very well drag him back into the house either, not with Hal and Connie on the couch in the living room. So she extricated herself from his arms and stepped down to the sidewalk.

She turned back and looked up at him, smiling, "I missed you too."

"Yeah, I can tell. That's why you're trying to give me a heart attack." He reached for her again, but she danced away from him toward her SUV.

Steph raised her hand and wagged a finger at him. "Nuh-unh! No more of that stuff. You're trying to fog my brain and make me forget why I agreed to meet you for dinner." She narrowed her eyes at him. "Hey, what are you doing here anyway? I thought we agreed that I'd meet you at the restaurant."

He held up both hands in an 'I surrender' gesture. "Okay, you're absolutely right, I promised no pressure. But I finished my rounds early and I couldn't wait to see you. And … to my credit, I didn't call you or ring your doorbell, I just waited out here." He smiled at her innocently. "I don't suppose that I can persuade you to ride with me, can I?"

"NO, Dr. Ramos! We had a deal and we're gonna stick to it! Both of us. You won't pressure and I won't run!" She beeped the locks on her vehicle and climbed in as he walked to his car. She powered down the window and called over to him, "How long were you waiting anyway?"

He stopped halfway into the Aston Martin and smiled, "Almost an hour," he called with a shrug.

Stephanie smiled to herself as she started her SUV and pulled away from the curb, following Niko to the restaurant. Almost immediately, she realized that there was a dark car following her. She tried losing it at a traffic light, timing it so that they would be caught by the red light, but the car blew through the light and trailed her by about half a block. She picked up speed, and so did they.

Stephanie squealed into the parking lot and practically threw herself out of her car, running toward Niko. "Hurry up and get inside! There's a car following me!" She grabbed his arm, dragging him toward the front entrance of the restaurant.

He put his arm around her and pulled her to his chest. "Steph, Steph! It's okay. I'm sorry, I should have remembered. They're my bodyguards. Ever since that night in Deal, Uncle Alexander has them following me everywhere. I'm so used to them now that I forgot all about them. I'm sorry they frightened you."

Steph wrapped her arms around his waist and closed her eyes, leaning her head on his shoulder. He rocked her gently from side to side and she took a deep breath and blew it out as her heart rate returned to normal. He tipped her chin up so that he could look into her eyes, "I really am sorry, Steph." She just nodded in relief and he dropped a kiss onto her forehead. "Are you sure that you're okay?"

"Yeah, but I think we're even in the heart attack department now!" and she gave him a weak smile.

The walked slowly to the entrance and a pretty hostess opened the door and greeted them. They were escorted to one of the private dining rooms and the young woman pushed open the double doors and stepped aside to let them enter, then closed the doors behind them.

It took a few seconds for it to register in Steph's brain that she was facing a large group of men who were standing in a circle. In the center of the circle stood Alexander Ramos. She realized that she recognized some of the men, Stavros and Panos and Costas and others from Alexander's compound, some of them she knew from the Greek restaurant in Long Branch, some were Alexander's friends. She took a step back and tried to pull away from Niko but he held onto her arm. "This isn't what you think Steph, I swear," he whispered to her.

She shot him a glare and hissed, "You know what I think? I think that I'm gonna wind up on an island somewhere surrounded by little old ladies dressed in black. I have friends you know, friends who'll come looking for me."

"This is the perfect solution to the problem and it'll make everybody happy. Please, just go along with it and everything will be fine, I promise. This will only take a minute and I'll explain everything. Please Stephanie, trust me."

Shit! She thought. She'd heard that 'trust me' line before and she knew just how empty and hollow trust could be. She was about to bolt when the doors opened and Niko's two body guards stepped into the room behind them. There was no escape. She squared her shoulders and looked at him. "It looks like I don't have any choice but to do what you want me to do. But let me tell you, trust has nothing to do with it." Niko gave a single nod, "Good," was all he said.

He escorted her over to the circle which opened to allow them to enter, and Niko stood with her in front of Alexander who picked up a Bible from a small table in front of him. Alexander took her right hand and placed it on the book and spoke to her in Greek. Niko leaned in and whispered, "Answer 'Ne'," and she wondered what she was agreeing to.

Niko produced a small knife and cut a small slit in his own thumb, squeezing it until there was a large drop of blood on his finger. He handed the knife to Stephanie who swallowed hard, and did the same thing. Alexander pressed their thumbs together and held them in place for a few seconds when he raised their joined hands up high and announced, "Estafania Ramos!"

When he let go of her hand, the room erupted in cheers and the men crowded around her, smiling, laughing and kissing her on both cheeks. Champagne corks popped and the room was filled with a stream of waiters carrying trays of food and wine.

A little dazed, she looked at Niko. "Stephanie RAMOS? What the hell just happened here? What was this all about?"

He handed her a glass of champagne and she took a big gulp. "I guess the easiest way to explain it so that you'll understand is that you just became a 'Made Man' in the Ramos Family." If there hadn't been a chair behind her, she would have landed on the floor on her ass.

"Made as in MAFIA 'Made'?" She squeaked. "As in member? As in 'paisano' member?"

"Yeah, that would be you. The first female member of the Ramos 'Family'," he said as she slugged down the rest of her champagne and held out her glass for more.

"Are you …?" she pointed at him a little shakily.

Niko just raised his eyebrows and shrugged ruefully, "Yeah, that would be me, too." Niko snagged a pair of champagne glasses from a passing waiter and handed one to Steph who pretty much inhaled it and licked her lips.

"So, explain to me how this solves the problem. Don't you have to kill somebody to be a 'made … Oh!" She grabbed his glass and drained it, too. She supposed that the guy she shot in Deal qualified her.

"The Family Council voted to make you a member of the Family and you just swore a blood oath to protect and serve like a good soldier. He held up his thumb, "Ramos blood flows through your veins," he said dramatically and received a loopy grin from Stephanie. He grabbed her hand as she reached for another glass off a passing tray. "I think you better have some food, Sweetheart!" and waved over a waiter.

Hours of food and drink and dancing later, Niko poured Steph into his Aston Martin and drove her home. She had been quite a hit at the restaurant, especially when he asked her for her car keys so that one of his bodyguards could drive her vehicle home for her. She had rooted around in her purse, trying to find them, and had attracted smiles from the crowd as she took out first her lip gloss and tissues and then her cell phone. Her purse-size defense spray earned her laughter from the group and they howled when she put her mini stun gun on the table. But when she pulled her Beretta out of her bag and brandished it in the air, the whole group hit the floor, much to Steph's confusion.

She had a lot of trouble getting out of the low car and standing on her feet, and she decided that it was her shoes that were conspiring against her. Niko wound up slinging her over his shoulder and carrying her up the stairs to her front door.

She felt great and knew exactly what was responsible for her wonderful mood … "Red, Red wiiiiiine," she sang as she hung upside down, over his shoulder, "la-la-la youuuuuu, la-la-la- dooooooo … red, red wiiiiiiiiiine!" She wiggled on his shoulder and slapped him on the butt in time with the music she heard in her head. He laughed all the way up the stairs.

"You know you hava grade ass? Yaever look add it inna mirr?" She reached down and squeezed his cheeks with both hands. "Graaade ass! Morelli usta have the bess ass in Trenon. Bu I havnent seen hizass inna loooong time. Tooooo bad, soooooosad! Red wed wiiiiiiiiiine…."

He deposited her on her bed and helped her off with her shoes and dress, kissed her on the cheek, and told her he'd call later on. She grabbed his tie and hauled him down to her mouth, wrapping her arms around his neck. He couldn't resist kissing her, she tasted of wine and strawberries and she was delicious. And she was deliciously drunk so he unwound her arms and laid her back on the bed.

She might feel great now, he thought, but Oh Man! What a head she was going to have when she woke up. He couldn't help but smile as he pulled the covers over her and slipped out of her room, hearing her humming, 'Red, Red Wine.'

Stephanie threw back the covers and fell out of bed, for some strange reason her legs just wouldn't cooperate. She finally made it into the kitchen and pulled open the fridge and she smiled as she took the half full bottle of wine off the shelf. She closed the refrigerator door and slid down it to the floor. Getting the cork out was a challenge and she fought with it for a minute. Finally, she just sank her teeth into the cork, twisting the bottle and pulling hard.

When the cork finally popped out her head slammed back into the edge of refrigerator door so hard that she saw stars. She didn't mind and just took a long pull from the bottle. "Red, red wiiiiiine," she sang, thinking that she had a really good voice and couldn't figure out why everybody always laughed when she sang. She noticed that Rex had stopped running in his wheel to watch her. "Ooooh, Wexy!" She stage whispered, "You like my sigin toooooo!" And she giggled as she yawned and fell asleep on the kitchen floor, right where Hal and Connie found her in the morning.

RSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRS

Roberts deposited Ramon's bags outside the front door so that the chauffeur could put them the trunk of the limo before Ramon left the house. When Senor Escobar was ready to leave, he wanted to walk out the door and get in the car and go. He didn't want to wait for anyone or anything and Roberts made very sure Senor Escobar never had to wait.

Ramon and Che were in the office, working out their final plans for their first face to face with the Russians. Problems had arisen with this initial meeting and had wound up in a standoff. The Russians had refused to come to Ramon's compound, and Ramon had refused to go to Brighton Beach. Both sides had compromised and now, they would meet in neutral territory in New York City, in public places that could be secured so that neither side would have an unfair advantage.

The Feds had made all of the arrangements for Ramon, and for once had been smart about it. A suite at the St. Regis, dinner reservations at the Four Seasons, everything was in place to impress Ramon's success on this bunch of thugs. In Ranger's opinion this gang was only about one step above Stark Street gang bangers. They had nothing to lose, and that made them dangerous.

Ranger had been outfitted with the latest in spy gadgets, from cameras to microphones to GPS trackers that looked like they came out of a James Bond movie. Every security measure possible had been taken, not to insure _his_ safety, but to insure that the information that he gathered wouldn't be lost. From day one, Ranger knew that as long as the intel was collected, Ramon was expendable. Ranger had to watch his own back because if anything went wrong, no one would be coming to rescue him.

Roberts held the front door open as Ramon walked out to the limo. On the far side of the driveway, in front of the garages, Tony and Paco were busy washing cars, scrubbing tires with toothbrushes, and polishing chrome. They stopped what they were doing when they saw him, staring at Ramon like he was a celebrity. Tony looked at Paco and leaned over the hood of the car they were working on, "We have to come up with something that's gonna make him notice us. 'Cause if we don't we're gonna be washin' cars forever. We gotta show him what we can do!"

Paco nodded in agreement and they watched as Ramon's limo pulled down the driveway and through the gates.

RSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRS

Two days after Stephanie's run in with red, red wine, she and Niko decided to spend a day down the Shore. She was still pretty uncomfortable at the thought of going back to the house in Deal, considering what had happened the last time she was there. So today, they were going to spend the afternoon on his sailboat that he kept at the Shark River Marina in Belmar.

She loved going out on his boat, it was fun and relaxing and Niko was wonderful company. The thought of spending the day watching him, bare-chested, working the sails or behind the wheel, made the heat pool low in her belly. One of these days, she decided, she was actually going to get him in the sack. She smiled at herself in the mirror as she pulled her hair up into a pony tail and swiped on some mascara.

She had a few errands to run so instead of wearing her bathing suit and cover up, she quickly dressed in a sleeveless white shirt over a red tank top and a short denim wrap skirt. She threw her bikini and towel in her canvas bag and she was good to go.

Steph was going to bring a picnic basket and decided to pack it with all the things Niko liked. She started at People's Bakery for a loaf of fresh bread, and then ran to Tasty Pastry for cannoli. She picked up a bottle of Limoncello and some club soda at the liquor store and then took off for Giovichinni's on Hamilton.

She parked in the tiny back lot at the Meat Market and slipped in the back door, put her basket over her arm and took her number at the Deli Counter. Giovichinni's had all kinds of Italian goodies and by the time she was through, her basket was full. It was true, she thought, you should never go grocery shopping hungry. She had gotten ham and salami and a couple of different cheeses, marinated artichokes and fresh mozzarella, ripe plum tomatoes and crusty Italian bread, pasta salad and grilled chicken and fresh fruit. By the time she was finished, there was enough to feed a small army but the salt air always sparked their appetites. And just in case they decided to spend the night on the boat, Stephanie wanted to be prepared.

Juggling her grocery bags and purse, she opened the back door with her hip and went out to her SUV loading everything into the front passenger seat. The parking lot was so tight that only one person at a time could fit between cars and Steph had to wait for the passenger to get out of the van parked next to her.

He looked at her and frowned, "I think you're getting a flat," he said and pointed at her front tire, stepping out from between the vehicles so that she could see. She made a face, this was so not what she needed this morning, and she blew out a deep sigh as she leaned down to look at the tire.

Out of the corner of her eye she saw someone reach out of the sliding door on the van and a hand was clamped over her mouth. Before she even had a chance to react, she felt cold metal touch the nape of her neck and heard the telltale sound of a stun gun. She fell into the big black void that opened up in front of her, thinking that she wouldn't be going sailing today.

Ranger and Stephanie had been friends and lovers and partners.

He had been gone three months, three weeks, two days, nine hours, and sixteen minutes.

_**TBC …**_

_**A/N: Just when it looked like things might start running smoothly for Steph … So who do you think has her? And why? And most importantly … Who's gonna save her this time?**_

_**Thank you for all of your wonderful reviews and comments, you have no idea how much I appreciate them. Let me know what you think, please … the good, the bad, and the ugly. **_


	26. Blind Man's Bluff!

_**Disclaimer: Everyone belongs to Janet Evanovich except the ones that are mine, and I'm just playing.**_

_**Warnings: Language, and All 12 books.**_

_**A/N: Special thanks to Super Karen my fabulous Editor, and Luisa, Brain Stormer and Translator Extraordinario, and Lindsay, Lisa, and all the BC Babes for support, friendship, suggestions, translations, cheer leading and general ass kicking. I love you all!**_

_**Thank you to all of you wonderful readers and reviewers. I wish I had the time to answer each and every wonderful review that you send.**_

_**Don't forget to read Kashy's "Keep The Faith" … you don't want to miss it! Read and review it please, you'll be glad you did! **_

_**The Name Of The Game!**_

_**By Stayce (XJerseyGirl)**_

_**Chapter 26: Blind Man's Bluff!**_

Ramon sat back in his chair and sipped his martini, studying the two men sitting across the table from him. He and Che were in the Grill Room of the Four Seasons Restaurant for this first meeting with Dimitri Mikalov, the man who would be negotiating this deal for the Russians, and his second in command, Andrei Borkin. This was the place where New York City's power brokers gathered for lunch, where billion dollar deals were worked out on cocktail napkins, mergers made with a handshake, where hostile takeovers were plotted … the smell of money was in the air and no place could have been more appropriate for the launch of this 'business venture'.

Ranger knew the game the Russians were playing. He had played it himself before and was prepared for it. Ramon's reputation preceded him. He had worked hard to develop his notoriety as a psycho with a hair-trigger temper who would kill in a heartbeat, and he reveled in the fact that people feared him. He banked on that fear and intimidation to keep his troops in line. A few very public temper tantrums, a few slit throats, a few men gone missing and Ramon's reputation as someone you didn't want to cross had been cemented. But it also marked him as a man who could be dangerous and difficult to deal with.

The Russians needed to make sure that Ramon wasn't so crazy that he couldn't be depended on, so his lunch companions were observing him. Was he rational, could he be trusted, is this someone they wanted to do business with? The men sat around the table, making idle small talk, gauging each other. Business would come later, once trust had been established.

The men behind this project weren't Brighton Beach street thugs, those men were just the soldiers. These men, who wore tailor made suits and handmade shoes, were the generals, the leaders of their organizations like Ramon was of his. Mikalov and Borkin were the deal makers, and they were the men who would give Ranger the information he was waiting for.

There was a polite argument over the bill, which Ramon won, and the group strolled out to the elevators together. Dimitri Mikalov held out his hand, "Señor Escobar, it has been a pleasure. I walk every morning, will you join me tomorrow? I will call you with the time and place."

Ramon inclined his head, "It would be my pleasure," and he held out his hand. Mikalov extended his and the two men shook hands.

The contract had just been signed.

_**RSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRS**_

Stephanie felt like she was dragging herself up from the bottom of the ocean. Her arms and legs were so heavy that she couldn't seem to lift them and it took her a couple of minutes to realize that she was tied up. Try as she might, she couldn't seem to drag her eyes opened or to lift her chin off her chest. Her muscles just wouldn't obey her and the pounding in her head made her feel like she had a hangover. She could feel herself sinking and tried to fight it, but she slipped into unconsciousness again.

She had no idea how much later it was when she came to, it could have been minutes or hours or days, she couldn't tell, but she heard somebody groan and she froze. It took a second before she realized that she was the one making the noise. The fog had lifted and thankfully, her head seemed to be a little clearer. She figured out that she hadn't been able to open her eyes because she was blindfolded; a cloth of some kind was tied tightly around her head. And when she tried to lick her lips she found that her mouth was covered, too, but with tape.

She vaguely remembered that she had been in Giovichinni's parking lot and there had been the guy in the van and she felt the metal against the back of her neck … _Shit! That guy stunned me!_ She thought. From the way her head felt, she was pretty sure she had been drugged, too. She hadn't recognized him; he wasn't an FTA or anybody she had come in contact with through the PI business. She couldn't think of anybody who would want to kidnap her.

Only one name came to mind … Alexander Ramos. Steph wondered if the whole 'member of the Family' thing had been a set up to lull her into a false sense of security. _Oh My God!_ The thought came to her with a jolt, _maybe I'm on that Greek Island after all? If he did this to me I swear to God I'll SWIM home and strangle that old man!_ The fear that had been running through her was replaced by anger and the determination to get out of this and get revenge.

Steph could tell she was tied to a straight-backed chair, probably so that she wouldn't fall off of it. The rope or cord, or whatever it was, was wrapped around her, cutting into her bare upper arms and was why she couldn't lift them. She wiggled around a little to see how much movement she had, but it wasn't much since she was trussed up so tightly and the cord had almost no give. Her hands were in her lap and she could move her fingers, but when she tried to twist her bound wrists, the thin rope bit into her skin painfully. Short of turning into the Incredible Hulk and bursting through the ropes, she realized she wouldn't be going anywhere until somebody released her.

She tried to figure out where she was using her other senses would tell her something. She could be anywhere, she decided, but wherever she was, it was cool and quiet. She sat very still, trying to calm her breathing and her heart rate, and listened as hard as she could but couldn't make out any sound or movement. It was absolutely silent, no voices, no traffic noises, no TV or radio, no nothing, and the thought crossed her mind that maybe she had been left here to die. She shook that notion off; she couldn't let fear and panic take over, and she turned her attention back to figuring out where she was. Maybe then she would know for sure who had kidnapped her and why.

She couldn't smell anything either. There were no telltale odors that would give her a hint as to where she was being held. She didn't think she was in a warehouse or a basement; there was no musty or damp odor, no cooking smells, in fact, all she smelled was clean, like Lemon Pledge, maybe? She sighed and gave up, this wasn't helping.

Aside from being stiff and sore, having a crashing headache and a mouth so dry that she couldn't even swallow, she didn't seem to be hurt in any way. Steph tried to loosen the tape by making faces and trying to open her mouth, but even though it gave a little, she could tell that the tape was stuck to the skin on her parched lips. She turned her head and tried to rub her face against her shoulder in an effort to peel the tape off, but it didn't catch on her shirt. _They make it look so easy in the movies,_ she thought to herself, _too bad it doesn't work in real life. _

All she could do was sit there and wait with her thoughts. She caught her head lolling to the side a couple of times and fought to keep herself awake, but eventually, sleep won out and she drifted off.

**RSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRS**

Tank was up to his eyeballs in paperwork. It was already early evening and he had been at it since first thing that morning. He had always thought of himself as a man of action and being chained to a computer, crunching numbers and reading contracts and proposals, was his idea of hell. Now he understood why Ranger had hated it so much. _This shit is a necessary evil when you run a business, but Jeez, _he thought, _it's never ending!_

When his cell phone rang, he looked at it as a reprieve. He threw his pen onto the desk and slumped down in his chair, running his hand over his face and rubbing his burning eyes. He flipped the phone open and barked, "Talk!" His patience was worn thin by all this administrative crap.

"Tank," the tone of Hal's voice made him sit up straight. "We may have trouble. Nikolas Ramos is here. He was supposed to pick up Stephanie this morning but she wasn't here. Said he stopped by the house a couple of times and called all day but no sign of her."

"Did you see her today?" Tank left his office and headed for the Control Room.

"Yeah, I saw her on my way out. She went to run errands and told me she'd be back before Niko came to pick her up. I already called her phone a dozen times, and her family and friends, Jeanne Ellen, nobody's seen or heard from her. She's real good about checking in, Tank, you know that she'd never go all day without calling somebody."

"Okay, I'll call you back in a few." Tank flipped the phone shut and hooked it back on his belt as he stopped in front of Ram and Cal who sat at the monitors.

"Stephanie is still carrying the sat phone I gave her. I need a location, now. Cal, track her car." He looked over Ram's shoulder as he brought up the info.

"This says that the phone is at 555 Hamilton. Been there since 9:38 this morning. Hold on while I see what's there … Giovichinni's Meat Market. She coulda left it there while she was shopping."

"Her SUV's still there too … maybe she had car trouble and caught a ride with somebody else?" Cal looked up in time to see Tank stalk out the door and back to his office. "Guess not," he muttered as he and Ram exchanged a worried look.

Tank threw his office door open so hard that it hit the wall and slammed shut. He shoved the papers around on the desk impatiently, looking for a particular file. Finding it among the stacks of documents, he flipped it open and read the last entry then crumpled it up and fired it across the room. "Motherfucker!"

The GPS implant in Steph's scalp had malfunctioned and wasn't sending any information.

He picked up his utility belt and jogged out of the office toward the elevator, stopping only long enough to give Ram and Cal orders. "Get a team together and have them meet me at Steph's car. Start the search, call in the contract employees. You have authorization to utilize every resource."

By the time the elevator doors opened in the garage, Tank had called Hal. He hesitated a minute, then dialed Morelli's number as he climbed into his Hummer. He had lost one friend, he'd be damned if he would lose another!

It was dark when Tank pulled up next to Steph's SUV in the Meat Market parking lot. He took out his Mag light and checked the car over, his heart sinking when he looked into the front seat. The passenger side was filled with grocery bags, bread bags from People's and a cake box from Tasty Pastry. But it was seeing her purse dumped out on the driver's seat that, for some strange reason, really got to him. He looked at her wallet and phone, check book and cash, her defense spray and her hair spray lying there, all little pieces of Stephanie's life. And all evidence that she didn't leave of her own free will.

Headlights lit up the lot and Lester, Bobby, and Junior got out of a black Suburban. A minute later Morelli pulled in followed by Hal and Nikolas Ramos.

Something snapped when Tank saw Ramos and as the man walked toward Steph's car, Tank pulled his gun. He grabbed Ramos by the front of his shirt and pressed the muzzle of his gun against his forehead, backing Niko against the wall of the grocery store.

"Stephanie told me about your Family 'troubles'," Tank hissed. "If I find out that you or you Family," Tank practically spit the word, "had anything to do with her disappearance, I swear to God that you'll wish it was only the Russians who were coming after you." Tank and Ramos locked eyes, neither one blinking.

Before Tank finished talking, Niko's bodyguards were out of their car with their guns drawn and the RangeMen had pulled theirs as well. Morelli stepped between the two factions and held out his hands, "Okay, everybody calm down. We're all here for the same purpose and this isn't helping us find Stephanie. I want everybody to put their weapons away, starting with Tank."

Morelli walked over to Tank and put his hand on the big man's shoulder. "I don't want to know why you think he had anything to do with this, but if we find out that he hurt her in any way, I'll help you kill him myself," he said softly. Tank took a deep breath and stepped back, releasing Ramos. He holstered his gun and signaled the Merry Men to do the same.

Joe, the only armed man in the group who hadn't pulled his weapon, looked at Ramos' bodyguards. "Holster your weapons, now! If I draw my gun, it'll be as a police officer and I will place you two under arrest. Is that clear?" The two men looked at Nikolas, who nodded at them, and their guns disappeared under their jackets.

At that point the lights flipped on inside Gioviccini's and out in the parking lot. With a final glance around to make sure that everyone had calmed down, Joe walked over to the back door and rapped sharply on it. "I called the owners and they agreed to open the store so that we can get a look at the security tapes from inside the store and the parking lot. Tank?" Joe jerked his head toward the door.

Leslie Giovichinni opened the door for them and took the two men into the office at the back of the store. She played the security tape and they stood, watching Stephanie shopping the aisles of the small store. She smiled and chatted with Lucy Giovichinni as she was waited on in the Deli counter, laughed with the cashier, bagged her own groceries and juggled them through the back door of the store to the parking lot.

The outside security cameras were mounted on the top of the building and looked down almost directly onto Steph's SUV. They picked her up as she came out of the store to her car and loaded all of her bags into the front seat. She walked around the back of her vehicle and waited until a tall, slim man in a dark windbreaker, sunglasses and cap got out of the van parked in the next slot. He said something to Stephanie and pointed to the front of her car, then stepped aside and let her pass him.

As she bent down, the van's sliding door opened and another man leaned out and grabbed her, clamping his hand over her mouth. The first guy pressed a stun gun to the back of her neck as she struggled, then helped lift her unconscious form into the back of the van and slam the sliding door closed. He picked up her bag and dumped it onto the front seat of her vehicle and rummaged through the contents. He took something and shoved it into his jacket pocket, then hopped into the van and it took off.

Joe pulled out his cell phone and called the station. A Missing Person's Report couldn't be filed for twenty-four hours, but with this video taped evidence that she had been kidnapped, an investigation would start immediately. The Feds would be called in, CSI would be dispatched to go over the crime scene, investigators would question the store's customers to find out if they had seen or heard anything, the neighborhood would be canvassed and the video would be enhanced.

The search for Stephanie Plum had begun.

**RSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRS**

The uniformed doorman at the St. Regis Hotel held the door of the limo open for Che and Ramon, "I hope that you enjoyed your stay with us and will come back to the St. Regis very soon," the man said with a smile. Che slipped him a hundred as he got into the back seat and settled next to Ranger. The door slammed and the long black car slid out into the late afternoon New York City traffic and headed for the tunnel to take them back to Ramon's compound in New Jersey.

Ranger leaned back against the seat and scrubbed his hands over his face. "Mikalov is one tough old bird, isn't he? He says he sees a lot of himself in me." Ranger looked at Che.

"Yeah, but he didn't last this long by being careless. Anybody who gets in his way just disappears. Be careful around him, he has trust issues. I gotta admit, that was a new one for me, doing business in a steam room."

"Well, you said he wasn't careless …" Ranger said with a snort, "when you're standing there, stark naked, facing another stark naked guy, you can both be pretty sure that neither one of you is armed or wired."

Che barked a laugh. "Is that what they mean by 'the measure of a man'?" They both laughed. "Oh, I forgot … Roberts called from the plane. They're running about an hour behind schedule, so the Vegas guys will be getting to the house just about the same time we do. Once this party is over, things should settle down again and you can focus on Mikalov."

Ranger tipped his head back and looked up through the moon roof of the limo. "You better call Dumb and Dumber and make sure everything is taken care of. Dios mio, I do _not_ want to do this."

Habit made Che look toward the front seat where Diego, Ramon's bodyguard, and Ernesto the driver were taking. "Ramon, you know that it's a tradition for your birthday … wine, women, and song! Just what we all need!" He shot Ranger an evil grin and Ranger returned it with a glare.

"Wake me when we get to the house," he growled, crossing his arms over his chest and closing his eyes as Che chuckled.

Che called the house to check on the preparations for Ramon's birthday party, then closed his eyes and dozed off as well. Ranger woke him as they pulled through the ornate wrought-iron gates at the bottom of the driveway to the compound. Before the gates had opened all the way, several other limos pulled up behind them, honking their horns, music blaring.

The cars parked in front of the house and by the time Ramon stepped out of the limo, a pair of Vegas showgirls were wrapped around him. Che went to greet the men who had been invited for the celebration.

"Nice party favors you guys brought!" Che said with a smile, as he watched Ranger try to extricate himself from the pair.

"There are more in the car," one of the men told him, "plenty for everybody."

Che turned and looked toward the front door. Tony and Paco were standing on the steps frantically waving him over. He jogged up the steps and they grabbed his arms and dragged him inside.

"Che," Tony said excitedly, "we got Ramon a special birthday present. Come and see her."

RSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRS

A distant thump snapped Stephanie awake. She strained to listen, to make sure that she had actually heard something and not just dreamed it. She heard more thumps and the muted sound of a car horns honking. The low murmur of voices, bursts of laughter, all far-off and indistinct. Then men talking, their voices separating from the rest of the background noises and coming closer. Fear ran through her veins like ice water and she let her chin slump onto her chest, pretending she was still unconscious.

Hurried footsteps approached, one voice intense, angry and accented, another whining. A door slammed open to her right and she jumped, slightly, at the noise, her heart racing. "Her? Jesus H. Christ! Do you mean you brought him a woman? Where is she?" The man sounded furious.

"We got Ramon a present, Che. We wanted to show him that we could do anything his Vegas crew could do! He's gonna be real happy with her." She could hear the smile in the guy's voice.

The footsteps stopped short. "Santa Maria, Madre de Dios! You better tell me that she's a professional and you paid her to let you tie her up like that!" He hissed at them.

Stephanie's mind whirled. _The man was speaking Spanish! All of Alexander's men spoke Greek. It wasn't Ramos who had her kidnapped! Who the hell was Ramon and why did they think he wanted her?_

"No, no Che, you don't understand. We picked her out!" A different voice, a third man.

"What do you mean you 'picked her out'?" He hesitated a few seconds. "Dios Santo! Are you telling me that you kidnapped her?"

"Well, yeah. We wanted to bring Ramon a special gift, a tribute."

"What do you mean a tribute? What's so special about her?" the accented voice demanded.

"She's Stephanie Plum, the 'Bombshell Bounty Hunter'. She used to be Manoso's woman," the second guy said proudly.

_Oh God!_ She thought, _did they kidnap me because they think I'm famous? Do they think that they can get a big ransom for me?_

"Fuck! Turn on the lights, I want to see her!" He ordered. It caught Stephanie by surprise when his fingers touched her face, lifting her chin and she couldn't stop herself from twisting her head away from his hand. She heard his sharp gasp of surprise before he let out a long, shuddering breath, as if he were trying to control himself. His voice was tight and angry when he spoke. "When did you grab her?" She cringed when he ran his hand gently over her hair.

"Two days ago," the second guy said. "We thought Ramon would be back yesterday. But she's been gagged and blindfolded and knocked out the whole time."

She shuddered as a hand cupped her cheek, "I'm not going to hurt you, Cosita," the man said softly. "They'll take off the gag, but if you scream, you'll regret it. Do you understand?" She gave a small nod.

His rough fingers scratched at the tape that was stuck to her face, scraping her cheek with his nails until he loosened the edge enough to grab hold of it. She let out a small cry of pain as the tape was ripped off of her mouth, taking some of the skin from her chapped lips with it. She could taste the coppery flavor of her own blood. Her mouth was so dry that she couldn't even lick her lips and finally just sucked her bloody lower lip into her mouth.

"Idiota!" The accented voice barked! "Are you crazy? You plan on giving Ramon damaged goods? Some tribute!"

She tried to concentrate on what they were saying, but when she heard the clink of ice all she could think about was how wonderful it would feel in her parched mouth and throat. She couldn't see him because of the blindfold, but she felt one of the men walk over and crouch down in front of her and she shrank back in the chair. Not knowing what was happening, she went rigid and jerked her head away when something touched her bloody lip. It only took a second for her to realize that it was an ice cube and instead of pulling away from it, she turned her head and brushed her parted lips across the slick wet surface, moaning as she tried to suck the melting cube into her mouth.

The accented voice asked softly, "Thirsty, Chica?" All she could do was nod.

Again she heard the ice tinkle, this time in a glass, and in a few seconds she felt the rim touch her lips. With a small whimper, she tipped her head back and gulped the water as fast as she could, afraid that he would take the glass away from her. She had never tasted anything so delicious in her life. She moved her head tipping the glass more, spilling some of water down her chin and onto her chest.

Steph didn't stop drinking until the glass was empty and she slumped against the back of the chair, breathlessly licking her lips. The voice asked, "More?" and she nodded weakly, still unable to speak.

This time she drank more slowly and when she was finally done, he gently blotted her lips and chin with a cloth. "Thank you," she whispered, her voice still hoarse.

"De nada, Cosita! Are you hungry?" The man asked kindly.

"No," her voice sounded so small, even to herself. "But I really could use a bathroom," she whispered.

"Of course, Little One."

Two sets of hands got busy on the ropes that tied her, first her feet, then the ones that held her to the chair. Once she was free, she realized that she hadn't been able to take a deep breath because she had been bound so tightly.

She stretched out her arms and bent over from the waist, groaning as she worked her tight muscles. She tried to stand but it took a few minutes for her legs to support her. An arm came around her waist to steady her but she pulled away, so he took her arm instead and walked her slowly into another room. "You can remove the blindfold when I close the door, but put it back on before you come out." He untied her hands and closed the door behind him.

Steph pulled off the blindfold and quickly took care of business. She looked around the powder room for something, anything, that she could use as a weapon, but the linen closet and vanity offered nothing except bathroom tissue, liquid soap, and room deodorizer. The room had only one door and no window, so there was no hope of escape.

She stood in front of the mirror and washed her pale face. She looked scared even to herself, and she wondered how the hell she was going to get out of this situation. She was about to tie the bandana back over her eyes and open the door, when she heard the three men talking and she pressed her ear against the door to listen.

"You two dumb fucks kidnapped her! That's a Federal offense! Ramon is gonna kill you on the spot for bringing the Feds down on us!"

"Feds? Waddaya mean Feds? Nobody knows we took her. We heard all the stories about how the Vegas crew used to bring Ramon women and he'd play with them for a while and let all the guys watch."

"Yeah, and then he'd give them to his crew so they could have some fun, too," the second one chimed in. "And nobody ever saw them again. Nobody every came looking for them. No Feds ever came around!"

"Diego told us they dumped those women out in the desert. We figured Ramon could do the same thing here. We got the whole friggin' Atlantic Ocean to dump her in."

Stephanie's stomach rolled and fear skittered through her veins. There was nobody to save her this time.

**RSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRS****RSRSRS**

Stephanie had no choice; she tied the bandana around her eyes again, opened the powder room door and just stood still. Immediately, a hand took her arm, as if he had been waiting for her right outside the door, and he led her back to her seat. A few minutes later, with her hands tied securely in front of her and the ropes wrapping around her, holding her to the chair, she wondered if she should have made a run for it, if it would have done her any good at all.

The room was quiet and she was pretty sure that they had left her alone. She had that strange tingle down her spine again, fear she supposed. After all, her heart was trying to hammer its way out of her chest and she could hear her pulse thrumming in her ears. She fought the urge to cry, and bit her lip to keep her self from sobbing out loud. Crying wouldn't do her any good, just make her look weak.

The distant voices and boisterous laughter that she kept hearing started to come closer. It sounded like a party in the next room; she could hear salsa music now and women talking and laughing.

She jumped when she heard a door open close by and a group came into the room, all male voices. They came over and stood right in front of her. Silence fell over the men and she could only liken it to the silence in the Control Room when Ranger walked in. Someone in front of her cleared his throat, "Ramon," it was guy #1 talking, "Paco and I wanted to get you a special birthday present. Something that would prove that you can trust us and that we can do anything that the guys from Vegas can do. So we picked this out special, just for you."

She could feel them step aside and a murmur went around the group. A different voice, older, deeper, rougher, spoke from the other side of the room. "Why would you bring me a woman? Do you think I can't find one for myself? Am I too _ugly_?"

"No! Ramon, it wasn't anything like that … we thought you'd be surprised …"

"Surprised¿Esto es lo que me traen? Parece un ramo de flores marchitadas!" She could hear the displeasure in his voice. This is what you think I, Ramon Escobar deserves?

"Wait Ramon, you don't understand. She was Manoso's woman and now she belongs to Ramos. She's the woman that was in the magazine picture, see, here's her driver's license. We thought it would be a good way to show them that you're in charge now! Think about it, Ramon! Using his woman and then throwing her away like trash! That'll send a message that you aren't scared of anybody!"

Silence fell again and Stephanie held her breath. The hair on the back of her neck stood up and she felt like she was being stalked by a wild animal. She couldn't see him, but she could feel him circle her. Fight or flight. She struggled against the ropes that held her.

His fingers tipped her head back and she could feel him studying her. He wrapped his hand around her throat and stroked from her jaw down to her chest. Splaying his fingers out, he slid his hand under her shirt, along her bare skin, brushing the narrow strap of her tank top first off one shoulder, then skimming across her collarbones to the other side. His touch was feather light as he trailed his fingertips down and slid his fingers inside the tank top, brushing across the swell of her breasts.

"Bring me a chair!" He barked and she could hear sudden movements around her. He sat down in front of her and took her bound hands in his, rubbing his thumbs over her palms.

He leaned over and whispered to her, his lips barely touching her ear, his voice silky, "Tell me, are you Stephanie?" She gave a small nod.

"Do you want to go home, Stephanie?" He whispered as he ran his fingers over her cheek. Another small nod.

"Do you know who I am?" He said against the corner of her mouth. She shook her head 'No'.

"Do you know where you are?" He whispered against her lips. Another no.

"Are you afraid of me, Stephanie?" A nod. "Good, you should be. I hold your life in my hands." He ran his lips from her ear along her jaw to the corner of her mouth and she shivered.

"Were you Manoso's woman?" She didn't answer and he put his hands on her knees and ran them up under her skirt to her thighs.

"Were you Manoso's woman?" He said a little more forcefully and she gave a single nod in reply.

"Did you love him, Stephanie?" A nod.

"Do you still love him?" She hesitated and he moved his hands farther up her thighs. She nodded.

"Are you Ramos' woman now?" She shook her head "no".

He gentled his touch on her legs and slid his fingertips up and down her thighs. Moving his mouth back to her ear, he flicked his tongue against the shell, making her shiver. "Do you have a lover, Stephanie? Who warms your bed at night? Who touches all those secret places and makes you sigh, makes you scream his name?"

He got up and walked around the chair, standing behind her, his hands sifting through her hair. "So my sweet Stephanie, will you spend the night with me? Will you share my bed? In exchange for your life?"

His hand grabbed her chin and tipped her head back far enough to force her mouth open. He brought his mouth down on hers in a brutal kiss, rough and hungry, forcing his tongue between her lips. When she tried to bite his tongue he grabbed her hair and pulled it, hard. Stephanie whimpered at the sudden pain.

He broke the kiss as the men in the room clapped and hooted and he shoved her head forward. A sob caught in her throat.

"Wildcat! No wonder Manoso wanted you!"

The unmistakable sound of a butterfly knife flipping open made her shiver and panic filled her. She could feel the knife against her arm and she froze. The tip of the blade ran down her arm, not cutting, just a pinpoint, letting her know that it was there. The blade cut through the ropes tying her to the chair like butter and she could tell how sharp the knife was.

He brought his mouth to her ear again. "You haven't answered me, Stephanie. Will you spend the night in my bed?"

She didn't answer. Suddenly he bent and grabbed her around the waist, hauling her out of the chair, knocking it over. He held her, her back to his chest, and spun around, then lifted her in his arms and carried her with him up a flight of stairs as she kicked and screamed.

He turned at the top of the stairs and she heard a door slam shut just before she was thrown onto a bed. She scrambled to get off but rough hands grabbed her and threw her onto her back. He straddled her and she struggled against him. She tried to scratch his face and she clawed at his chest.

Twisting and turning under him, she managed to push off the blindfold as he grabbed her hands and pinned them over her head. She fought to free her hands but all the fight went out of her as she focused on the chain he wore around his neck. Dangling at the end of it was the pearl.

Her eyes flew to his face and their eyes met. She didn't see the cruel scars that carved through his face, she didn't see his blind eye with its misshapen pupil, she didn't see his lip pulled up into the permanent sneer. She only saw the beautiful face of the man she had loved and lost.

_**Ranger and Stephanie were friends and lovers and partners.**_

_**They had been together for eleven months, two weeks, four days, nineteen hours, and thirty-one minutes.**_

_**They had been apart for four months, two weeks, six days, eleven hours, and fifty-one minutes.**_

_**He had been dead for three months, three weeks, four days, nine hours, and sixteen minutes.**_

_**They had loved each other every moment of that time,**_

_**And now, they had found each other again.**_

_**TBC …**_

_**A/N: Please tell me what you would like to see happen in the next chapter … how should the story go?**_

_**Thank you for all of your wonderful reviews and comments. I appreciate every one of them.**_

¿Esto es lo que me traen? This is what you bring me?

Parece un ramo de flores marchitatas! She looks like a bouquet of wilted flowers!


	27. Just Cause!

_**Disclaimer: Everyone belongs to Janet Evanovich except the ones that are mine, and I'm just playing.**_

_**Warnings: ANGST, VIOLENCE, SEXUAL SITUATIONS, Language, and All 12 books.**_

_**A/N: Special thanks to Super Karen my fabulous Editor and Christie, Lindsay, Lisa, and all the BC Babes for support, friendship, suggestions, translations, cheer leading and general ass kicking. I love you all!**_

_**Thank you to all of you wonderful readers and reviewers. I wish I had the time to answer each and every wonderful review that you send.**_

_**Don't forget to read Kashy's "Keep The Faith" … you don't want to miss it! Read and review it please, you'll be glad you did! **_

_**The Name Of The Game!**_

_**By Stayce (XJerseyGirl)**_

_**Chapter 27: Just Cause!**_

"Stephanie! Stephanie! Stay with me!" Ranger hissed urgently. He was still straddling her, patting her cheek sharply, not enough to really hurt her, but enough to keep her from fainting. She blinked a couple of times and focused on his face, really seeing it for the first time.

Her eyes widened and tears gathered in them. "I don't understand …" she whispered.

Ranger shot a look over to the bedroom door, waiting for Ramon's men to come through it. "I know. But Stephanie, listen to me," his tone compelled her to pay attention. "There's no time to explain now. Those men downstairs are going to come up here any minute. If they think that we know each other, that we've ever even seen each other before… they'll kill us … both of us, right here, right now. Do you understand me?"

He slid off the bed and hauled her up onto her feet. Her legs didn't want to hold her up and Ranger had to grip her shoulders to keep her from hitting the floor. She raised her still bound hands and rubbed her throbbing forehead with her wrists. "What do you want me to do?" She asked weakly.

"You have to fight me, Stephanie; I need you to fight me like you're fighting off an attacker. I need you to bite and kick and scratch and scream like your life depends on it, because it does. They have to believe that you're afraid of me."

"You … you're going to pretend to attack me?" Her voice shook as she spoke.

He took a deep breath. "No." That one word … His voice was bitter and cold, a shudder ran through her as she looked into his eyes. "I'm not going to pretend."

She tried to shrink away from him but he held onto her, forcing her to look into his face.

"I'm going to do everything I can to get you out of here alive. I'll try not to hurt you, but this has to look convincing … Can you do this?" He gave her a shake, "Can you?"

"I guess. I don't know." She covered her face with her bound hands. "I just don't understand … if you're dead ... why …" The sob in her voice twisted in his gut like a knife.

The muffled voices that they had heard from downstairs now became bursts of boisterous laughter as the group of men came up the stairs to watch Ramon 'play' with his birthday present..

She was so pale, he thought, so fragile, that he could almost see the veins under her skin, so physically and emotionally exhausted that she couldn't think straight. When he cupped her cheek in one hand, she leaned her face into his palm, her eyes closed, looking for comfort. He wished he had it to give.

If their game was discovered, Ramon's men would put a bullet in his brain. He'd be dead and the mission would be lost. Stephanie wouldn't die so easily though. Ramon's men were sick fucks and they'd use her, hurt her to the point where she'd welcome that bullet. He couldn't let that happen to her.

He threaded his fingers through her hair, "I'm sorry Babe," he whispered. The gesture that had always been gentle and loving turned into something else. His hand fisted cruelly in her hair dragging her head back and she gasped at the sudden pain. The fingers of his other hand dug into her upper arm. Her eyes flew open and found his, the shock of him purposely hurting her clearly visible.

He changed his posture to loom over her, narrowed his eyes, let his nostrils flare and his lip turn up into that sneer. Like Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, he transformed into Ramon. Raw wanton desire written on his face, his eyes wild, his hands brutal. He felt the fear race through her body and saw horror flash across her face, she wasn't seeing Ranger, she was looking at Ramon.

"No," she whimpered and tried to pull away from him. He tightened his grip on her and as Ramon's men came through the door, he hauled her against his body and crashed his mouth down on hers in a savage kiss. The coppery taste of her blood filled his mouth as her lip split again and mixed with the saltiness of the tears that streamed down her face.

He had tapped into his own deepest desires and felt his tightly leashed control slip. He allowed himself to stir against her and wanted nothing more than to bury himself in her warm, wet body and make her scream when he came inside her. Maybe buried under all of his hard earned self control lay his own version of Ramon.

She shoved at him and he relented, breaking both the kiss and his hold on her. Spinning away from him, she turned to run, then stopped short, faced with the jeering men who blocked the doorway. Desperately, she looked around the room for a way out, but there was no escape route.

Stephanie swung back on Ramon, her adrenaline finally kicking in. He advanced on her, taunting "Come on Baby, let me show you what it feels like to have a real man inside you." She felt something deep inside her snap. With a scream, she launched herself at him, her hands curled into claws, ripping at his face and chest. He threw his head back and laughed as he dragged her against his body and tried to kiss her again. Thrashing her head back and forth, she hurled curses at him. She wasn't going to be a victim and she wasn't going down without a fight.

Their audience shouted encouragement as he wrestled with her. One of the men separated himself from the group and plastered himself against Stephanie's back, rubbing his erection against her ass. He grabbed her shirt, ripping it off of her, reaching around, squeezing her breasts. Ramon threw her to the floor and, with a roar, grabbed the man by the throat lifting him back against the wall, his feet dangling off the floor.

"Mine!" He growled. "Don't touch her again." Wild-eyed, he looked around at the rest of men, who looked anywhere but at Ramon.

Che strolled over to him and clapped a hand on Ramon's shoulder. "Let Marcellino go, amigo," Che said with a laugh. "He just had a little too much to drink and wanted to join in the fun. Nobody is going to touch your little wildcat. She's all yours!"

Ramon dropped his hands from the man's throat and watched as Marcellino slid down the wall, gasping for breath, landing in a heap at Ramon's feet. He stood, clenching and unclenching his fists until his fury passed, then turned his attention back to Stephanie. She lay curled into a ball on the floor where he had dropped her. Using his foot, he shoved her over onto her back and she looked up at him through half closed eyes.

He stood over her, looking down at her for a second, then stripped his shirt over his head and tossed it aside. A small cry escaped her as he reached down and hauled her up off the floor by the front of her tank top, the action ripping off one of the tiny straps. He pulled out the neckline of the shirt and looked down at her breasts, then turned to his men who lounged around the room. "Not much, but you know what they say, any more than a mouthful is a waste!" Everyone except Stephanie laughed at his joke.

He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her up against his naked chest, running his hand over her face. "I can't wait to taste Manoso's bitch," he said with a cruel laugh. "I'm gonna make her scream so loud that they'll hear her in Trenton." She looked him in the eyes as she brushed her lips back and forth against his hand and then bit him as hard as she could. Cursing her, he pulled his hand away and raised it to slap her. Ramon looked into her defiant face and she squared her shoulders, prepared to take the blow. "Go ahead, hit me, you bastard! You aren't half the man Manoso was." And she spit in his face. The group erupted in laughter.

In one fluid movement Ramon lifted her and threw her across the bed, knocking the wind out of her. She turned over and tried to get away from him but he knelt on the bed and held her down as she hit and kicked at him. He unbuckled his belt, whipped it out of the loops and leaned over her, then he slipped it between her bound wrists and secured them to one of the columns of the four-poster bed.

She tried to twist away from him but he caught her ankles and dragged her back so that she was stretched out in front of him, helpless and at his mercy. He ran his hands up her legs under her skirt, pushing it up toward her waist as she kicked at him. Grabbing her knees, he shoved them apart, then knelt between her legs and slowly unbuttoned his pants, sliding the zipper down and freeing his erection, making sure she watched what he was doing. Silence fell over the audience and they leaned forward in anticipation.

He bent her leg at the knee and pushed it out to the side to give himself access to her and as he settled himself between her thighs, he grabbed her panties and ripped them off of her to the lusty cheers of the men who had come to stand around the bed to watch.

She could feel his hard, thick length between her thighs and Stephanie squeezed her eyes shut, turning her face away from Ramon, biting her lip so that she wouldn't cry out. He ran his hand down her arm to her chest and slipped under her tank top to knead her breast. "Does that feel good, Baby? You like my hands on you, huh? How about this, you like this better?" He dipped his head and sucked her nipple through the thin material of her shirt. He felt the tremor that shook her body.

Ramon kissed her mouth again, pushing his tongue between her lips. When she twisted her face away from him, he sucked and bit the tender flesh of her neck, making her whimper in pain. He started to move against her, rocking his hips into hers, but she was too spent to fight him. She just lay there, her ragged breathing broken by sobs, tears slipping from her eyes. Knowing that she had reached her limit, Ranger looked up and caught Che's eye, jerking his head toward the bedroom door.

"Come on guys, shows over. Go back downstairs to your women. Ramon'll be down when he finishes with Manoso's puta." He ushered the men out and closed the door behind him. They could hear the rowdy group head down the stairs.

Ranger stilled his movements and whispered to her, "Scream Stephanie, just scream and it's all over."

"I can't," she moaned weakly, "I can't …"

"Please Babe, you have to convince them, you have to scream, please." He brushed his cheek over hers soothingly.

She tipped her head back and drew a shuddering breath. With everything she had left in her, she screamed … a long, drawn out scream that held all of her pain, all of her loss, all of her fear. A cheer went up from downstairs, and the music blared as the party ramped up.

Ranger reached up, loosened the belt that was holding her hands over her head and untied her wrists. She barely had the energy to lift her hands and drag them down to her sides. He dropped his head, burying his face in her hair, his breathing as ragged as hers. Stephanie could feel him, hard and throbbing between her legs and she tried to move out from under him.

"Jesus God, Stephanie, don't move, give me a minute," he whispered into her neck. She could feel his body tremble knowing he was fighting for control and she tried to lay still under him, but chills wracked her body.

Finally, he took a deep breath and pushed himself off of her, reaching down for the edge of the comforter and bringing it with him, wrapping it around her. She cocooned herself in the satin and watched him sprawled on his back, his hands covering his face. "I'm sorry that I hurt you, Steph, but there wasn't any other way. It had to be convincing."

"You acted like you enjoyed it … Why … didn't you … really …?" She choked out the words.

He turned on his side to look at her. "Really what? Rape you?" Shock was evident in his voice.

She didn't answer but he saw the pain and fear in her wide blue eyes. She flinched as he reached his hand out to touch her cheek. "I don't know who you are," she whispered brokenly.

The ache in his chest was almost unbearable as he watched her pull away from him. He didn't voice the answer; he knew she wouldn't believe anything he said. _I'm the man who loves you, Babe, _he thought. _Never doubt it._

The chills that wracked her body were joined by sobs as she turned away from him and finally broke down.

RSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRS

Joe sat in his office in the TPD with all the information that had been gathered on Stephanie's kidnapping spread out on his desk in front of him. Still shots from the security tape, close ups of the van and its license plates, interviews with other shoppers, it was pretty slim. The van fit the description of one that had been stolen in Pennsylvania; the plates were lifted off a car in a Wal-Mart parking lot in Bricktown and a vague description of the two men … that was it.

Joe ran his hands over his face. He hated to admit it to himself, but he wished that Manoso were there. He had always been able to help Steph, always seemed to know when she was in trouble, and was always able to save her bacon. RangeMan had canvassed the city, calling in favors, covering Stark Street and going places where no one would talk to a cop if their lives depended on it.

The Ramos Family was in on the hunt too, acting like one of their 'made men' had gone missing. From Cape May to High Point, the state was being covered. Brooklyn police had their ears to the ground, listening for any word that the Brighton Beach mob might be involved. Phones were tapped, reward money offered, the Feds were underfoot … and nothing. They hadn't been able to uncover a single solid lead.

The body of a woman with curly brown hair had been pulled from Chesapeake Bay and Tank and Bobby had flown down there to see if it was Stephanie. Joe swore that he'd go to Mass every Sunday for a month if it wasn't her. He should probably call Father DiAngelis, he thought, so the man wouldn't have a heart attack when he saw Joe in church.

There had been hundreds of sightings around the state and every single one had to be checked out. Short, tall, thin, fat, young, old, Joe had no idea there were so many blue eyed, curly haired brunettes in the tri-state area. Even though her purse was still in her car, they had run a check on her bank accounts and all her credit cards. Again, it turned up nothing. The last activity on her debit card was at Giovichinni's.

No unidentifiable fingerprints had been found on her car. It looked like the kidnappers knew what they were doing. Joe had just fielded a call from the Hoboken PD. A van like the one used in the kidnapping had been found under a railroad trestle, stripped and torched. The VIN number matched the stolen vehicle from Pennsylvania, but the cop couldn't prove it was the one the kidnappers drove. Lots of leads, lots of dead ends.

The mood around the station was grim. For as much as they teased and joked and bet on her troubles, everybody loved Steph. She was part of their family, not just because of her bounty hunting past, but because so many of them had grown up with her. Carl, Eddie, Big Dog, Robin, hell, even Officer Picky, had volunteered to work overtime just to work the case.

Joe ran his hands through his hair and looked down at copy of the Trenton Times that lay on his desk. The whole front page was filled with a picture of Stephanie, smiling into the camera. He leaned back in his chair and blew out a frustrated breath. She had been gone for three days, with no word, no ransom demand, no nothing.

For the first time in his adult life, Joe Morelli had to admit that he was scared.

RSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRS

Stephanie fell into a troubled sleep, sobbing and crying out. Her physically exhausted body wouldn't let her stay awake but her overloaded brain wouldn't allow her to rest. Finally, doing the only thing he knew how to do for her, Ranger slipped under the covers and drew her close. She sighed deeply, then settled her head on his shoulder and drifted into a deep, peaceful sleep.

She didn't stir when Che knocked on the door and slipped into the room. He stood at the foot of the bed looking down at them. "Probably time for you to go back to the party, Ramon. They're gonna start asking questions if you don't show pretty soon. Want me to stay up here with Steph?"

Ranger nodded and gently extricated himself from Stephanie, putting a pillow under her head to replace his shoulder. He brushed a kiss across her forehead and tucked the comforter around her. "I don't want her to wake up alone," he said softly.

"Just tell the guys that I'm cleaning up the mess … _that_ crowd won't ask any questions." Che got onto the bed and leaned against the headboard. He used the remote to turn on the TV and started flipping channels as Ranger headed for the shower.

It was late afternoon before Stephanie woke up with a pounding headache. It took her a minute to figure out where she was, hoping that everything that had happened had just been a horrific nightmare. A wave of anguish washed over her when the events of the past two days came flooding back to her. She groaned as she turned over, every muscle protesting the movement and she gingerly stretched her aching body. At least she wasn't tied up anymore, she thought as she scrubbed her hands over her face.

She groaned again as she struggled to sit up. Brushing her hair out of her face, she blinked, trying to focus on the dim surroundings. "How do you feel, Chiquita?" The man's voice made her start and scramble away from him toward the foot of the bed, clutching the comforter to her chest as if it would protect her.

He sat against the headboard, legs stretched out and ankles crossed, arms folded over his chest. Her first thought was that this was one of the men from the group downstairs who had come to take his turn and fear gripped her heart. Without saying anything else, he leaned over and turned on the bedside lamp. He watched as her eyes opened wide and recognition struck her. With a strangled cry she flung herself across the bed and into his outstretched arms.

"Oh my God, oh my God! Hector!" She cried, as he pulled her to him and kissed her resoundingly. "I can't believe it! What are you doing here?" She grabbed his face in her hands and peppered him with kisses, then wrapped her arms around him and hung on for dear life.

He chuckled as he pulled her onto his lap and folded his arms around her. "It's good to know you missed me, Cosita."

She pulled back from him and looked into his face, "How did you get here, Hector, I thought you were with your family in Puerto Rico. What are you doing here with Ranger …" She stopped in mid-sentence and her smile faded.

"Oh …" she looked away from him. "Oh ... you're on a mission," she whispered, more to herself than to him. She pulled out of his arms and sat on the edge of the bed, one hand over her mouth the other clutching the comforter.

She felt like she couldn't breathe and she rocked back and forth as she dragged one painful breath after another into her lungs. All of the pieces fell into place, all the little pieces of the jig-saw puzzle. "All along, the whole thing … it's been a mission, hasn't it?"

She didn't hear Ranger come into the room, and she lifted her eyes to see him standing in front of her. "Hasn't it?" She demanded, her voice rising. "Tell me, damn it! I deserve to know!"

Hector turned up the volume on the TV then got up off the bed. "I'll go down and get everybody out to the guesthouse." He came around the bed, squatted down in front of Stephanie and took her hands in his, kissing the backs of them. "I love you, Cosita, I'm here if you need me. Okay?" She nodded at him and leaned forward to kiss him. She watched him walk out of the room, putting a hand on Ranger's shoulder as he passed him.

The volume on the television seemed to get louder once they were alone in the bedroom. Ranger reached for the remote and turned off the TV. He stood looking down at her and she just stared at the floor. The silence became deafening.

Stephanie took a deep breath. "When did you find out about the mission?" Her voice sounded so small and far away to her own ears. "Was it before you faked the plane crash?"

He was silent for so long that she thought that maybe he hadn't heard her. She looked up at him and watched as the mask fell into place.

She got up off the bed and stood in front of him. "When were you called for this mission?" Her voice was stronger this time, level and measured.

"Does it really matter, Stephanie? The answer won't change anything." His voice was flat and emotionless.

"Then why not tell me? If it doesn't matter, what's the difference? Did you know _before_ you threw me out?" She snapped at him, her eyes glued to his face.

His eyes flicked away for a split second and she knew. He didn't have to say a word, she already had her answer. She took a shuddering breath and stepped back from him, running her shaking hands over her face.

"I've spent all this time trying to figure out what I did wrong. I've wracked my brain trying to think of what I did that could have made you hate me like that." Her voice was tight with fury. "All this time I've blamed myself. Was I too needy, did I cling too much, did I make you feel tied down, was I too boring, wasn't I pretty enough, sexy enough, what was it that made you stop loving me." She turned to look at him, her raw pain written on her face. "You did love me once, didn't you? At least tell me that was real."

"Stephanie, I had no choice. I …"

She turned on him. "Of course you had a choice," she spat. "If you were tired of me, you could have just broken up with me … but it was easier to walk away, wasn't it? Nice little speech, turn your back, walk out the door and never look back. Throw some money at the problem and it'll go away. But that wasn't enough for you, was it? You made sure that Tessa was right there, in my face, every time I turned around, rubbing salt into the wound. Why did you have to torture me? What were you trying to do, drive me crazy?"

"If it hadn't been for the mission, none of this would have happened. You don't understand …"

"You're damned straight I don't understand!" She started toward the window and stopped short. The thought struck her suddenly … with amazing clarity, and she turned on him, wide-eyed. "Oh my God! Maybe I do understand. You _were_ trying to drive me crazy. Were you trying to make me kill myself? Slit my wrists? Overdose? Walk into the ocean? Was that the idea? Then I'd be gone and you wouldn't have to worry about me anymore. You'd be rid of me once and for all." She gave a high pitched laugh. "That's it, isn't it? You must have been so disappointed that I didn't die when that car hit me." Hysterical laughter bubbled up out of her.

"Jesus Christ, Stephanie, how can you say that?" He grabbed her by the shoulders and gave her a shake. "I made sure that you were never alone … those few minutes when you ran out of the garage and got hit by the car … You were never supposed to be alone! Somebody was always with you. I was always right there so that if it ever got to be more than you could handle, I could step in and end it."

The laughter stopped as realization hit her and she pulled out of his hands, backing away from him. "You got babysitters for me, didn't you? Bobby? Tank? Hal? They were all in on it too, weren't they? They knew all along? My _friends_!" Her breathing got ragged and her voice sounded empty. "You and your buddies all stood around and watched me, and nobody ever said a word."

"Steph …"

The roaring in her ears prevented her from hearing anything he said. "What else did you engineer? Huh? The money? I know you arranged for that 'insurance' money, but how about the reward money? Did that come out of your pocket? Does my house belong to you too? My furniture, my clothes, my car?" He shook his head 'no.' "What else? The job with Jeanne Ellen? Did you set that up?"

"No, Steph, I had nothing to do with it … that was all you."

She waved her hands in the air, not wanting to hear anymore about it. "Did you enlist Alexander and Niko in your little operation, too? Well? How did you pawn me off on them? What did you bribe them with? Did they know about the mission? Do they know that you're alive?"

She sank down into a chair and Ranger came over and squatted in front of her. "How many men did you interview before you lined up Niko as your replacement, huh? Is he your hand-picked stud? Were you gonna breed me like some kind of prize show dog?"

He reached his hand out to her, but she slapped it away. She finally looked at him, "All this time I've been living your lies. Is there anything real in my life or is everything fake?"

"Stephanie, you have to believe me. I lo…"

"How could I believe anything that came out of your mouth? All you know how to do is lie!"

He grabbed her hands and even though she struggled, wouldn't let her escape this time. "I listened to you, now you listen to me. Whether you believe me or not, you listen! I was _not_ given a choice. You went looking for my family and you couldn't find them, right?" She looked at him. "Well neither could I." Her eyes widened in surprise. "One day, they were just gone. When this mission is over and done with, they'll be released but until then, I have no idea where they are."

"What's that got to do with me?"

"I got word that they thought they could use you as leverage, the same thing was gonna happen to you. One day you would have just disappeared off the street, vanished into thin air, and no one would know what happened to you. Your family and friends, _nobody _would know if you were dead or alive. You'd be held some place for God knows how long. I couldn't prevent that from happening to my family, but I could stop that from happening to you. I did what I had to do."

"Are you telling me that you did all this for my own good?" Sarcasm dripped from her words and she jumped up out of the chair and started to pace.

"Why couldn't you just tell me what was going on? We could have figured something out. Jesus, how many times did you come to my apartment in the middle of the night to say goodbye? What's so different about this mission that you couldn't do that? What were you trying to protect me from?"

"There's more to it." He paused and ran his hands through his hair. "Stephanie, Carlos Manoso is already dead. There is no expectation that I will survive this mission. I won't be coming back." She backed away from him, shaking her head. "I arranged for you to be safe, to start over, to move past _us_ and get on with your life … and yeah, I stood by and watched you. I didn't leave until I was sure that you'd be alright."

She could only stare at him as she struggled against the panic that filled her. "How long would you have grieved for me? How long would you have waited for me to come back? A year? Five years? The rest of your life? I wanted you to live, Babe, not die with me. I was trying to protect you from yourself."

Stephanie was shaking so hard that he could see her vibrating. "Don't you call me that, you son of a bitch!" she hissed. "There is no _Babe_ … not anymore. You killed her … you killed her and buried her under all your lies." She turned her back to him and covered her face with her hands. "How dare you make those decisions for me! How dare you take my choices away from me! I trusted you." She turned on him. "You bastard … you took away everything I loved …"

She flung herself at him, screaming 'I hate you; I hate you', slapping him across the face as hard as she could, again and again, only stopping when she couldn't lift her arms anymore. Curling her hands into fists, she pounded on his chest, sobbing "I hate you," like a litany. He didn't lift a hand to ward off the blows and she wore herself out, crying so hard that she could barely draw a breath. Finally, her legs wouldn't hold her up any longer and he reached for her as she slid to the floor. "Don't touch me!" She choked out between her sobs. Her hands were on his chest pushing him away from her.

She collapsed to the floor and curled into a ball, her sobs twisting in his gut. Not wanting her to be alone, Ranger slid down the wall and sat next to her, waiting for Stephanie to cry herself out. Eventually, when her weeping faded to muffled sobs and she was too exhausted to fight him, he lifted her and carried her into the bathroom. Quickly stripping off their clothes, he held her under the stream of hot water in the shower and gently washed her.

He wrapped her in a bath sheet and toweled her dry. Her body was covered with the ugly bruises that he had caused and he tried to be careful, not wanting to cause her any more pain. Slipping a t-shirt over her head, he tucked her into bed, and sat next to the bed to watch over her for the night.

Hours later, Stephanie woke in the dark room. Her sleep had been restless and filled with terrible dreams, leaving her exhausted. Visions of Ranger lying dead haunted her. She had pushed away the pillows that tried to smother her and had kicked off the covers that had reached out to strangle her in her nightmares. She lay there in the middle of the big bed and let her eyes adjust to the moonlight that filtered in through the tall windows.

She knew exactly where he was; she could sense him, sitting on the floor leaning back against the side of the bed, his head tipped back onto the mattress. His eyes were closed but she knew from his breathing that he wasn't asleep. She lay very still and watched him, trying to figure him out. He knew that he was going to die, and yet he had committed himself to this mission. She would have run so far, so fast, she wouldn't have been able to find herself.

As furious as he made her, as angry with all of his 'arrangements,' she realized that she wasn't at all surprised. It was exactly what she would have expected him to do. After all, this was Ranger, and this was what he did. He had always helped her solve her problems and had always taken care of her. It was his _methods_ that she had a problem with, not the man, and right now, it was all moot anyway.

No matter what, she was going to lose him. His words rang in her ears, 'There is no expectation that I will survive this mission' … it sounded so bureaucratic, so cold, as if he were quoting a government memo. 'Dear Mr. Manoso, You have been assigned to a mission. There is no expectation that you will survive. Please make all necessary arrangements and report to …' 'Arrangements.'

Was it worth hanging on to her anger? What would she gain? What point would it prove? No matter what she did, he was still going to die, and she was still going to be alone…

She slipped down the bed until she was behind him and rested her head on his shoulder, her face to his neck and she inhaled the scent of him. Her heart clenched in her chest at the thought of losing him again, and she didn't think she could live through it a second time. He lifted his hand and gently threaded his long fingers into her wild curls, and turned to press a kiss onto her forehead.

He looked into her tear swollen eyes and felt his heart clench in his chest at the thought of losing her again. _God or karma or fate or luck, whatever it was, sure had it in for the two of them_, he thought. _All the pain and heartache, all the grief and denial, all of it had been for nothing. At the end of the day, he would still be dead and she would still have to go on alone._

He turned around and wrapping her in his arms, pulled her down into his lap. She sighed against his neck as she slid her arms around him. He held her, feeling her smooth skin under his hands, feeling her breath against his skin, feeling her heart beat against his. If only they could freeze this moment.

Stephanie and Ranger had been friends and lovers and partners.

Now, in the quiet of the night, they could hear the clock ticking away the precious minutes they had left together.

_**TBC …**_

_**A/N: So, where do they go from here? Please tell me what you think should happen next. Oh, and Ranger and Steph want to know if you're ready for some smut? They want you to know that THEY are!**_

_**Thank you so much for all the wonderful reviews and comments, I wish I could have replied to each one of them. Please know that Steph and Ranger read them to each other over breakfast in bed. **_


	28. Tug of War!

_**Disclaimer: Everyone belongs to Janet Evanovich except the ones that are mine, and I'm just playing.**_

_**Warnings: Smut, Terminal Sappiness, Angst, Language, and All 12 books.**_

_**A/N: Special thanks to my Dream Team: Super Karen my fabulous Editor, Luisa, Brain Stormer and Translator Extraordinario, and Lindsay, Lisa, all the BC Babes, and FF Readers for support, friendship, suggestions, translations, cheer leading and general ass kicking. I love you all!**_

_**Thank you to all of you wonderful readers and reviewers. I wish I had the time to answer each and every wonderful review that you send.**_

_**Don't forget to read Kashy's fabulous 'Bad Medicine' and 'Keep The Faith' … you don't want to miss them! Read and review them please, you'll be glad you did! **_

_**The Name Of The Game!**_

_**By Stayce (XJerseyGirl)**_

_**Chapter 28: Tug of War!**_

Stephanie breathed a deep contented sigh as she woke up. She was snuggled up against Ranger, her head on his shoulder. He had his arm wrapped protectively around her with his warm hand splayed against the bare skin of her back, holding her close. She had been having horrible dreams and was so relieved that the night was finally over. She let her eyes open slowly and felt her heart squeeze painfully in her chest as she looked at the man sleeping so peacefully beside her. No, they hadn't been nightmares; the terrible dreams were her reality.

She studied the angry scar that marred his once beautiful face. It ran from his hairline down through his eyebrow and eyelid, slicing into his cheek all the way to his beautiful mouth. And his eye, his poor eye. His nose was different too, not as straight or as refined, now there was a bump on the bridge and it was wider. His skin was darker and his hair longer than she had ever seen it, hanging past his shoulders. The perfectly trimmed moustache and goatee made him look like the devil, but it was the brutal scar that made her heart ache the most.

As she traced her fingertips lightly over the mark, he captured her hand and turned his head to place a kiss in her palm. Tears blurred her vision when she thought what he must have endured. "Does it hurt?" she whispered, then raised her head to brush butterfly kisses over the thin white line that ran down his face, first his forehead, then his eyelid and cheek and finally on the corner of his mouth. He slitted his eyes open to look at her. "Not anymore," and he drew her closer and buried his face in her hair.

Ranger felt Stephanie relax against him and her breathing told him that she had dozed off again. He knew that she must be exhausted, physically and emotionally from this ordeal. She hadn't eaten in a couple of days, and still she could sleep. That alone told him just how tapped out she really was. She was the strongest woman he had ever known, but still, he was worried about her.

He had been amazed that from the moment she laid eyes on him, she had recognized him. He really hadn't thought that his own mother would have known him, he had been changed so much. It wasn't just his face either. He had lost a good thirty pounds, most of it muscle. Not that he was soft by any means, but he had lost his sculpted shape and looked leaner, narrower. Sporting Ramon's tattoos and replicas of the scars from his knife fights, Ranger felt like he had stepped into the other man's skin. But none of it had fooled Steph for a second.

He had failed her, he thought. All of the things that he had tried to protect her from, the government, the heartache, the loneliness, here she was, right in the middle of it. Destiny sure had a fucked up sense of humor.

He leaned up on his elbow and watched her sleep, her wild curls fanned out over the pillow. Reaching out, he wrapped one around his finger, then tucked it gently behind her ear. "I'm sorry Babe," he whispered, as he kissed her temple.

She made one of those little noises that he missed so much and smiled in her sleep. "Love you," she murmured as she turned over and settled herself back against him. The oversized t-shirt that she was wearing had ridden up to her waist and as she settled her bare butt and legs against him. A groan escaped him and he immediately hardened.

He had missed her soft pliant body and her wanton sexuality in bed. When she reached around, took his hand in hers and brought it under her shirt, he couldn't help himself and let his hand drift over her naked belly and up to her breasts. A low moan escaped her and she arched her back, pressing herself into his hand. How many times, he thought, had they woken each other just this way.

Turning onto her stomach, she pulled him with her, moving against him in invitation. Her head rested on his forearm and in her half sleep, she rubbed her cheek against his skin and sighed. He lifted her hair and laid a string of soft kisses on the back of her neck. Tipping her head to the side, she exposed her neck to him and he brushed his lips over that sweet spot where her neck met her shoulder. She moved her legs, spreading them for him, giving him access and he wanted nothing more than to bury himself in her. When a shiver ran through her body, he knew he had to stop now, or he wouldn't be able to stop at all. She made a little whimpering sound as he pulled away from her and sat on the edge of the bed. He ran his hands through his hair and watched her settle back into deep sleep.

A soft knock on the door brought Ranger off the bed. He grabbed the gun he kept on the night table and as he walked around the bed to the door, he turned to make sure that Stephanie was covered. Pulling the covers up over her bare legs and butt, he fought the urge to kiss her smooth cheeks, just shaking his head at how this woman could make him want to forget all about his priorities. Looking at her, nothing else mattered.

Ramon clicked off the safety, unlocked the door and aimed the gun at the visitor. A leering Che stood in the hall. "Buenas dias, amigo," Che said a little too loudly, for the benefit of anyone who might be listening. "Did you have fun last night with your present?" Ranger flipped the safety back on the gun and stepped aside, letting Che stroll into the room.

Once the door was safely closed, Che morphed back into Hector, the caring, concerned friend. "How is she doing?" He asked as he approached the bed and looked down at her. "You guys get to talk any?"

Ranger shook his head. "She's exhausted. I don't think anything I said to her would register at this point, I'm going to have to wait until later." She didn't stir when he leaned down and brushed her hair out of her face, then ran the backs of his fingers over her cheek.

"Do you want me to arrange for some clothes and things for her?"

"You gonna go shopping?" Ranger said with a small smile. "She'll be disappointed that she missed out on a trip to a new mall."

Hector snorted, and then said patiently, "No, I'm gonna call Neiman Marcus to get everything she needs and have it delivered. They can have everything here by tonight."

Ranger nodded, "That's a good idea, she needs something to wear. And I can't send her home in just a t-shirt."

"It's all over the TV and the papers, you know. The Feds are in on it, the whole tri-state area is crawling with people looking for her. The cops found the van where Dumb and Dumber dumped it in Hoboken. The neighborhood gangs took care of it, stripped and burned it. They wiped out any fingerprints that were missed but left plenty of their own."

"You tell 'em where to leave it? I know they aren't smart enough to figure that out on their own." Ranger cocked an eyebrow at Hector.

He shrugged, "Couldn't have the Feds coming down on us, now could I?" He took a deep breath, "When _are _you gonna send her home?"

Ranger crouched down beside the bed and smiled at 'dead to the world' Stephanie. "Not until one of us can go with her," Ranger said softly. He couldn't resist his need to touch her and he threaded his fingers through her hair. "It'll look strange if you aren't here for the meetings with the Vegas guys, especially since you were the go-between while Ramon was in the prison hospital and then in rehab after the stroke. You negotiated all the deals with the Russians for him."

"Yeah," Che agreed as he went over and sat on a small couch by the fireplace. "And if _you're_ not there, they'd see it as a snub. So it looks like Ramon gets to keep his gift until tomorrow night when the meetings are over."

Ranger placed a kiss on Steph's forehead, stood up and walked over to join Che. "Tell Tony and Paco that Ramon is very pleased with his birthday present and to show his appreciation, they are both promoted. They don't have to wash the cars anymore, they can run errands. Just don't tell them that they're gofers." Che chuckled at the thought of how happy Steph's kidnappers would be.

Ranger scrubbed his hands over his face, trying to change gears. He had always been single minded about his missions, had always had tunnel vision where they were concerned. Now, for the first time, his sights had been shifted off the target, away from his goal … by Stephanie. She had blurred his focus on what needed to be done. Her presence here was a distraction that he couldn't afford, there was too much at stake. He had to keep his head clear, not something he could do with Stephanie around. He had to get her home as soon as possible, for everybody's sake.

With a glance over at the bed to make sure that Stephanie was still asleep, he sat in the chair across from Che. This was the only place in the house where they could talk in absolute privacy without fear of being overheard by any of Ramon's men.

"Mikalov and Borkin will be here in the morning. They want to meet the principles involved in the transportation end of things. Up to now all of our meetings have been in public places or out in the open where neither side has an advantage. Now they're offering to come here. It looks like they're making a big show of trusting us, but there's something off about it." Ranger voice was tinged with suspicion.

"I have to tell you that I'd be really surprised they don't call and ask for the meet to be in neutral territory or on their home turf instead," Che added. "I'm telling you now, there's no way we're going into Brighton Beach. It's too dangerous. It would be like being dropped behind enemy lines, no way out, no place to hide."

"That's why I'm wondering why they're willing to come here. I don't trust them. I'm thinking that especially Mikalov doesn't want to let go of the reins, they want to control the whole operation. I wouldn't put it past them to try to hijack all of our transportation crew away from us."

Che blew out a deep breath and leaned against the back of the couch, arms folded over his chest, gathering his thoughts. "Fuck! That'd blow the whole mission out of the water. We have to convince the Vegas outfit that this is the deal of a lifetime, and that _we're _gonna make them rich beyond their wildest dreams. Looks like it's time for Ramon to pull a rabbit out of his hat and come up with something to insure their loyalty _and _put the fear of God into the Vegas bunch." He gave a bitter laugh, "Piece of cake!"

Ranger ran his hands over his face and through his hair. "God Almighty! Can't any part of this be easy?"

Che called Roberts to have breakfast sent up for Señor Escobar and 'his guest,' then left to arrange for elaborate gifts for the Vegas contingent. Ranger went into the bathroom to take a shower.

When the bathroom door clicked shut, Stephanie opened her eyes. _Mikalov and Borkin, Ramon Escobar, prison, transportation crew, and theVegas contingent, Brighton Beach … tie them all together and you've got Ranger's mission,_ she thought. She was going to be doing a lot of research as soon as she got to a computer.

RSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRS

Ranger sat on the edge of the bed, gently applying arnica gel to the bruises on Stephanie's back when breakfast arrived. Roberts came into the room, set up breakfast on a table in front of the fireplace and turned to leave without so much as a glance in Stephanie's direction.

"Will there be anything else, Sir?" Roberts asked in his clipped British accent.

"Provide my … guest … with anything she wants."

"Very good, Sir. Madam." Roberts gave a small, formal bow and left the room.

As soon as the bedroom door closed behind him, Steph crawled over Ranger, out of the bed and ran to the table, attacking the food. The minute she smelled it, she realized that she was starving.

Twenty minutes later, stuffed to exploding, Steph sat back in her chair, coffee cup in hand. "That was the best breakfast I ever had in my whole life!" She groaned, holding her stomach.

Ranger smiled at her over his cup, "I'll bet you don't even remember what you ate! I don't think you even chewed half of what you swallowed."

She laughed, "Probably you're right, I was ravenous. But it tasted wonderful!"

He got up and kissed her on the top of her head. "I have to finish getting dressed and get downstairs. I have a meeting and I'm running late. They'll be waiting for me."

She sat for a few minutes, sipping her coffee before she followed him into the dressing room and asked softly, "So, what happens now?"

"I really need you to stay up here today. It isn't safe for you to go wandering around the house. If you need anything, call Roberts on the house phone. TV is in the armoire and a computer in the office." He pointed to a doorway on the other side of the bedroom. "I don't have to ask you not to get in touch with anybody; you know that any call or email would be traced. We've come too far to let the whole mission fall apart. Hector or I will check in on you as often as we can."

"You know that's not what I meant." He was turned away from her, but she could hear the deep breath that he blew out.

"Tomorrow night almost everybody that's here now will be gone, and I can make sure you get home safely." He took a shirt off a hanger and pulled it on. He stood there, buttoning the cuffs.

"And then what?"

"And then we go back to the way things were a few days ago." She could hear the decisiveness in his voice.

"But now that I know you're alive I …"

"Stephanie," he said sharply as he turned to put his hands on her shoulders, "I'm alive right this minute, but an hour from now, a day, a week … There are no guarantees."

"I know that! I don't come with any guarantees either! I could slip in the tub or fall down the stairs or get blown up with one of my cars. Life doesn't come with any guarantees. Are we all supposed to stop living life … just in case?"

"No, of course not. But this situation is different. I've come to grips with the fact that I won't survive this. You have to accept the fact that I'm not coming back. You have to go home and get on with your life like this little 'incident' never happened."

"Do you really think I could do that? Just … erase you like that? I can't, I won't!" Tears of frustration stung her eyes. "I'm not like you. I can't just flip a switch and turn off my feelings, just forget everything and make it all go away. I don't know how you can."

She came to stand in front of him, searching his face, needing to make him see things her way. "There's a line from a movie... 'I would rather have thirty minutes of wonderful than a lifetime of nothing special.'" She stood in front of him and looked into his face, "Don't you understand? You're my thirty minutes of wonderful."

He cupped her face in his hands, "And you're mine, Stephanie. But tomorrow night our thirty minutes is up. I have a job to do and I have to focus on it and you have your life to get back to."

"Fine, so focus on the job." He had finished dressing and she followed him out of the dressing room, through the bathroom and into the bedroom. "Just don't shut me out … please! Maybe there's something I can do to help?"

"You know I can't let you get involved. It isn't my decision to make, anyway. If you don't agree to back off, you'll force me to turn you over to the Feds."

Shock and dismay registered on her face. "Y … you wouldn't!" Tears pooled in her eyes and threatened to slip down her cheeks.

"In a heartbeat if that's what it took to keep you safe. Your choice." He stared at her, his eyes flat and cold.

She turned, not wanting him to see her cry, and fled into the bathroom, slamming the door behind her. She stumbled to the shower and turned on the water, hoping that the sound would drown out her sobs. Finally, all cried out, she wearily stripped off the t-shirt and stepped into the shower. She stood under the water with her eyes closed, just absorbing the heat. She turned her back and let the steamy water work its magic on her neck and shoulders, pounding the tension out of them. She found herself wishing it was Ranger's hands soothing her, and she sighed as she felt her muscles loosen.

Working shampoo into her hair, Stephanie turned and tipped her head back to rinse the soapy lather. She knew the instant Ranger came into the room and opened her eyes to find him standing in the bathroom doorway, staring at her. He held a shirt in his hand and she watched as his fingers fisted around the material. She froze with her hands in her hair as his glittering black eyes swept over her, then fixed on the soapy water streaming over her shoulders and between her breasts and down over her belly. Her breath caught in her throat and she could feel her nipples contract under his heated gaze.

Stephanie looked into his black eyes and could see how much he wanted her. Her heart was pounding in her chest and desire coiled low in her belly. Right now, all she wanted was to lie in his arms and feel his hands on her body. She needed his hot mouth on her, sucking and licking, his silken tongue tangled with hers. If she could only have him for this one night, she needed memories that would last her a lifetime.

He crossed the room slowly, stalking her, nostrils flared, breathing ragged, eye locked on hers. She licked her lips in anticipation and stepped out of the shower. He reached out and touched her cheek, sliding one hand into her wet hair. His other was on her hip, sliding up over her ribs to cup her breast, his thumb skimming over her already pebbled nipple. A shudder raced through her body, met by one of his own and she watched him through half closed eyes as he lowered his mouth to hers.

The both jumped when they heard the bedroom door slam open, loud voices calling for Ramon. A man appeared in the bathroom doorway and leaned against the frame, Marcellino. "You got a pretty little piece there, llave, too bad you don't wanna share anymore," he leered at her.

Ramon stepped in front of her, shielding her from Marcellino's stare, and handed her a towel he grabbed from the rack by the shower. She quickly wrapped herself in it and turned away from both men.

"Mine!" Ramon thundered, "I don't even want your eyes on her!" He advanced on the other man, his hands curled into fists. Marcellino was being hauled out of the doorway by Che, who was muttering that the man had a death wish. Ranger looked back at Steph, regret in his eyes. She matched him with a look of her own as he closed the bathroom door.

She could hear the voices recede into the hall and she rubbed her forehead as she slumped against the sink. The sound of the door opening brought her head up and she gave Ranger a small smile when he slipped into the room.

"I'm sorry Amante," he said with a rueful smile as he walked over to her. He bent his head and kissed her, soft and gentle, then pulled back before the kiss could turn into something else. Picking up the shirt he had brought in earlier, he laid it on the counter. "This is about the only thing I could find for you to wear now."

She turned to look at the shirt and had to smile. It was a white dress shirt, just like the one she had worn to do the lap dance for him, once upon a time, in another life. It seemed like forever ago. She looked into the mirror over the sink and caught his eyes.

Ranger wrapped his arms around her from behind and dropped a kiss on her shoulder. He brought his face next to hers, his lips against her temple, watching her in the mirror as he spoke. "You know that I love you. I have every inch of your beautiful body memorized. I can close my eyes and I can remember your taste on my tongue, the feel of your skin, the scent of your perfume and your hair. I can hear those little sounds you make in your sleep, and I remember how you move under me and that little gasp you always make when I slide into you. I can see the color of your eyes when I make you come and hear the sound of my name on your lips. You're always with me, Stephanie."

He kissed her a final time, and left. She met her own eyes in the mirror. More than ever, she was determined to do anything and everything she could to keep him alive. She just needed to figure out how to get more information and her thoughts turned to formulating a plan as she started to dry her hair with the blow dryer she found in the linen closet.

When she came out into the bedroom she found that the bed had been made and breakfast cleared. Roberts obviously had been given orders because a carafe of boiling hot coffee and a plate of cookies were on the table by the couch. She looked at the inviting bed and considered climbing back in, but instead, decided to do a little computer research since she was alone.

Stephanie was about to drop her towel and put on the shirt that Ranger had brought her but a small movement caught her eye and made her swing around toward the bedroom door. Leaning back against it was a smiling Marcellino. He didn't say anything, but made a show of turning the deadbolt, sending her the message that there was no way out. He saw her eyes go to the house phone, but he stood between her and the table it sat on.

"Ramon will kill you if you touch me!" She hoped her voice sounded calmer than she felt.

"Ramon and I are old friends. We go back a long time and we have always shared our women. I kept his wife happy while he was in prison. He won't care, Chica. A puta is a puta, we are just two of many men you've had, yes?"

He took as step toward her and she bolted for the bathroom. She made it through the doorway and almost had the door closed when he slammed his shoulder into it, sending her stumbling back into the room. She almost fell, but caught herself on the counter and by the time she got her balance, he was on her. He grabbed her from behind and tried to shove her, face down onto the marble counter between the sinks.

Using a trick she knew would work, she tucked her chin against her chest and brought her head back as hard as she could, connecting with his face. He let go of her with a howl of pain and took a step back, giving her an opportunity to twist away from him, and escape back into the bedroom. He was after her in a heartbeat, cursing in Spanish, no doubt telling her what he planned to do to her.

Breathless, her heart pounding in her chest, she lunged for the house phone. Before she could press the buttons, he ripped it out of her hand and backhanded her across the face so hard, it threw her to the floor, knocking the air out of her. As he stood over her, legs spread, gloating down at her, she pulled her knee back to her chest and kicked out, hitting him in the groin with the flat of her foot. He staggered back and clutched himself, eyes bulging, and sank to his knees.

In a split second she was on her feet and grabbed the coffee carafe by its handle. He screamed as she dumped the still boiling hot liquid over him, then swung the stainless steel container like a tennis racket and hit him in the side of the head, knocking him out cold.

She calmly put the badly dented carafe back on the tray, and hunted around for the house phone, punching the button for Roberts, telling him that she needed some help.

Still out of breath, she re-tucked the towel around her, unlocked the bedroom door and looked around for some kind of a weapon to use in case Marcellino came to. She finally decided on the fireplace poker and sank into a chair with the poker across her knees.

Roberts and Che came into the room a minute or two later. Che took a look at Marcellino, than bent down to Stephanie. "Are you okay? Did he hurt you?" he asked softly.

"I'm alright," but he tipped her head back and looked at the bruise that was blooming on her cheek.

"You smell like coffee," Che smiled at her. "Why don't you go clean you up and I'll take care of the clean up out here," he said softly as he pried the poker out of the death grip she had on it.

Too tired to argue, Stephanie got up and went into the bathroom. She showered and shampooed again, only realizing that she had small burns on her hands and arms from the hot coffee when the shower made them sting. She toweled her hair dry this time and dressed in the shirt that Ranger had brought her. It came down to mid thigh so at least most of her was covered.

Steph came out of the bathroom determined to climb into bed and stay there until Ranger came back, but apparently Ramon had other plans for her. A huge man stood next to Che, arms folded over his chest, glowering at her and she took a step back when she saw him. _If Gigantasaurus was trying to intimidate her_, she thought, _it was working_.

Che cleared his throat and she dragged her eyes away from his companion and looked at Che. From the expression on his face, Stephanie knew that he was trying to tell her something that he couldn't say with words. "Chica, Ramon wants to see you downstairs. Diego," Che pointed to the giant, "will take you to him."

Stephanie immediately knew that he was telling her to play along. And she gave him a quick nod. "I'm not exactly dressed fo…"

"Ramon says now!" Diego rumbled and he stepped forward and took her by the arm and pulled her to the door. She shot a glance over her shoulder to make sure that Che was following.

Diego's stride was so long that Stephanie had trouble keeping up with him. He took her down a long hall and through an archway to the top of a magnificent marble stairway with intricate wrought iron railings. Halfway down, it split into two staircases, each curving around the opposite side of a large, circular room. It looked like something that belonged in a palace.

Below them, in-between the staircases, was a raised platform holding an elaborately carved chair that resembled a throne. Slouched in the chair, toying with a butterfly knife, was Ramon. As Diego dragged her down the stairs, and across the marble floor she realized that there were at least a dozen men sitting on the couches and chairs in front of Ramon.

Diego marched her up the three steps to the chair and stood her in front of Ramon, then stepped back, folding his massive arms over his chest. When she turned to look at Ramon, Stephanie felt like she was looking at evil incarnate and couldn't help the shiver that passed through her. There was no hint Ranger in him, _this_ man was pure Ramon.

His eyes bored into hers. "Why did you attack one of my men?" he growled, turning the knife end over end between his fingers.

Stephanie wasn't sure how she was supposed to handle this, so she just went with her gut. She planted her fists on her hips and stared back at him. "He tried to attack me."

Ramon studied her, tapping the blade of the knife against his lips and pointed it at her bruised face. "He will pay for that. With his life." And he held up the knife, then stabbed it into the arm of the carved wooden chair.

Stephanie could hear the men stirring behind her, clearly surprised by what Ramon had said.

Ramon arched an eyebrow at her. "So, now you must pay me back for my loss," he said with a smirk.

She arched an eyebrow right back at him. "And just how am I supposed to do that?"

He grinned at her, a smile that made her blood run cold even though she tried to tell herself she didn't have anything to be afraid of. She tried to back away from him, but as quick as a snake, his hand shot out and grabbed the front of her shirt, pulling her down to her knees between his legs. "Chupame, bebe! Suck me off!" And he started to unbuckle his belt. The men sitting behind her started to laugh and clap.

She didn't know if he was serious or not, but she had never been an exhibitionist and she wasn't going to start now. She narrowed her eyes and glared at him. "If I were you, I'd be afraid I'd bite it off."

He stared at her for a minute, then threw his head back and roared with laughter. The audience followed suit. "I think Ramon has finally met a woman worthy of him! Ramon Escobar has met his match! Manoso's woman is _my _woman now!"

He reached down and wrapped one hand around the back of her neck and grabbed the front of her shirt with the other, hauling her across his lap. The action exposed her ass to all the men sitting behind her, and they shouted their approval. He bent his head and kissed her, shoving his tongue between her lips. She struggled against him and when the kiss broke, Ramon draped her across his lap and slapped her bare ass as she screamed in outrage.

Face down across his knees, she twisted and turned, fighting to get away from him when she spotted the knife, stuck into the chair, right in front of her face. The men were so focused on her bare behind, they never saw her reach for the knife and pull it out of the wood. Curling her hand up to her chest, she held the blade close to her body.

"Look at this perfect ass!" Ramon said to his men, then bent down as if he was going to bite her.

She slid off his lap and jumped to her feet, raising her arm above her head, knife in hand. He stood and caught her wrist as she brought the knife down to stab him, then twisted her hand until the weapon clattered to the floor. His eyes met hers as he very gently brought her palm to his mouth, touching it with the tip of his tongue. If she had been wearing panties, she would have ruined them.

He grabbed her and kissed her again, whispering, "Proud of you," then handed her off to Diego to take back upstairs.

At the top of the stairway she stopped and looked back down at the room. Two men were dragging Marcellino into the room. His face and neck were covered with angry burns from the scalding hot coffee and he was clearly terrified of the two men. Ramon stood up from his chair and strolled nonchalantly over to him and without any warning, backhanded him so hard he fell to the floor. He was hauled to his feet and Ramon backhanded him again, screaming at him in Spanish.

Stephanie looked up at Diego, "Who are they""

Diego watched the action down on the floor. "Clean up crew," he said. "They get rid of the garbage."

She watched as Ramon knocked Marcellino down again, then he turned and looked up at her, holding her eyes for several long seconds, gauging her reaction. Ramon's eyes flicked to Diego, and he jerked his head toward the bedroom. The giant took Stephanie's arm and pulled her down the hall to the bedroom.

The second she got back into the room, she collapsed onto the bed, just listening to her heart hammer in her chest and her pulse pound in her ears. Stephanie couldn't believe that Ranger would kill Marcellino or allow him to be killed, either. She lay there, in her thinking position, until the unmistakable sound of a gunshot outside brought her up off the bed. She ran to the window and saw Marcellino crumpled in the driveway, a group of men standing around him.

She watched as the 'clean up crew' loaded Marcellino into the trunk of a car, leaving a pool of blood on the bricks. As the car pulled away, Ramon handed the gun he was holding to Che who slipped it into his shoulder holster. Slowly, Ramon raised his eyes to the window where Stephanie was standing and she stared at him in shock.

The expression on his face and in his eyes sent a shudder of dread through her and she turned away from his gaze. There was no place for her to run to, no escape. In desperation she locked the bedroom door, knowing it wouldn't keep him out. No sooner had she stepped away, when the handle turned.

"Stephanie, unlock the door!" It was Ramon's voice calling to her. "Let me in!" His impatient voice demanded as he rattled the handle.

She had backed away from the door, and a small scream escaped her as the wood splintered and the door flew open, slamming into the wall. Ramon, not Ranger, stood in the doorway. His hair was loose and wild, his expression feral, head down, eyes hooded, they were hunter and prey. He advanced on her and she backed away until there was no place left to go.

Holding her hands out, as if that would ward him off, he came close enough that her palms lay on his chest. He grabbed her wrists and pinned her hands to the wall above her head, leaning his body against hers. "You are my woman now, Stephanie," he growled into her hair.

She had turned her face away so that she wouldn't have to look at him, and shook her head 'no'. "No! I could never belong to Ramon!"

"Why not?" He demanded.

"Because I belong to somebody else." She still wouldn't look at him.

He went absolutely still and she felt something change in him. The rage was gone, replaced by the familiar and comforting. He threaded his fingers through hers and whispered against her temple, "Tell me who you belong to, Stephanie."

She lifted her eyes to his, "I belong to you. I always have, always will."

His breath caught in his throat. "Will you be Manoso's woman for one last night?" He asked, his voice ragged.

She turned her face up to brush her lips against his, "I'll be Manoso's woman until the day I die," she whispered.

"Babe …"

RSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRS

_Ranger and Stephanie were friends and lovers and partners._

_How much time do they really have left?_

_**Amante … Lover**_

_**Llave …'Bro'**_

_**Puta …Whore**_

_**Chupame, bebe … Suck me **_

_**TBC …**_

_**A/N: Sorry I'm a day late, real life got in the way this week. I'll try to do better next week. So tell me, do you still want smut? Ranger and Steph are ready, that's for sure. She's been stuffing donuts down her throat like there's no tomorrow and he's been working out at the gym, killing punching bags. They need a little lovin'!**_

_**Thank you for all of the wonderful reviews and comments and suggestions and even the criticisms. I try to respond to every review, but I definitely will respond to every PM or email. Thanks for reading!**_


	29. 20 Questions!

_**Disclaimer: Everyone belongs to Janet Evanovich except the ones that are mine, and I'm just playing.**_

_**Warnings: SMUT, Terminal Sappiness, Angst, Language, and All 12 books.**_

_**A/N: Special thanks to my Dream Team: Super Karen my fabulous Editor, Luisa, Brain Stormer and Translator Extraordinario, and Lindsay, Lisa, and all the BC Babes for support, friendship, suggestions, translations, cheer leading and general ass kicking. I love you all!**_

_**Thank you to all of you wonderful readers and reviewers. I wish I had the time to answer each and every wonderful review that you send.**_

_**Don't forget to read Kashy's fabulous 'Bad Medicine' and 'Keep The Faith' … you don't want to miss them! Read and review them please, you'll be glad you did! **_

_**The Name Of The Game!**_

_**By Stayce (XJerseyGirl)**_

_**Chapter 29: Twenty Questions!**_

"_You are my woman now, Stephanie," he growled into her hair._

_She had turned her face away so that she wouldn't have to look at him, and shook her head 'no'. "No! I could never belong to Ramon!"_

"_Why not?" He demanded._

"_Because I belong to somebody else." She still wouldn't look at him._

_He went absolutely still and she felt something change in him. The rage was gone, replaced by the familiar and comforting. He threaded his fingers through hers and whispered against her temple, "Tell me who you belong to, Stephanie."_

_She lifted her eyes to his, "I belong to you. I always have, always will."_

_His breath caught in his throat. "Will you be Manoso's woman for one last night?" He asked, his voice ragged._

_She turned her face up to brush her lips against his, "I'll be Manoso's woman until the day I die," she whispered._

"_Babe …" _

_**Chapter 29: Twenty Questions!**_

"Babe …" he whispered, savoring the name that he thought he would never be able to call her again.

Ranger still held Stephanie pinned to the wall with his body, his hands holding her wrists over her head. He took a step back from her, and slowly lowered her arms, loosening his grip. Bringing her wrists to his lips, he placed a tender kiss on the inside of each one before he let them go. Her hands instinctively settled on him, not to hold him off this time but to keep him from slipping away.

Gently threading his fingers through her hair, holding it back from her face, Ranger tipped her head up to look into her eyes. He searched them for any sign of fear or hesitation, but all he found was love and trust. The tears that had pooled slid down her cheeks and he bent to kiss them away, their salty taste filling his mouth.

He moved over her cheek to her slightly parted lips and stopped, his mouth barely touching hers, waiting for her to give him permission to kiss her. They stood there, staring into each other's eyes, sharing the same breath. He felt her little sigh as she surrendered herself to him and moved her lips against his. With a groan his mouth came down and took hers, his arms around her, pulling her flush against him.

They moved to fit together instinctively. Her hands skimmed around his waist and up his back, her fingers curling into his shirt as she molded herself to him so tightly that he could feel her heart pounding against his. Until this moment, neither had realized just how incomplete they were without the other.

Their kiss quickly turned hungry and urgent, their mouths feeding on each other. His hand fisted in her hair, her gripped his shoulders as she angled her head to deepen the kiss. Their tongues mated, searching for the connection that would complete them.

They were breathless when the kiss finally broke. He pulled the neckline of the over-sized tuxedo shirt down off of her shoulder, sucking, licking and nipping his way over her pale skin up her neck to that special place just below her ear that always made her go weak in the knees when he touched it. She gasped as his teeth grazed her earlobe and he laved the spot where her neck met her shoulder, feeling her pulse flutter under his tongue. When he sucked the tender skin into his mouth, her knees all but gave out and she stumbled back against the wall, her hands threaded into his hair, taking him with her.

Growling deep in his chest, Ranger slid his hands under her shirt, reveling in the silkiness of her naked skin. "God, I love your body, Babe," he whispered to her. His hands stroked and kneaded her ass and moved upward, rediscovering all of her soft curves and secret places, over her hips and ribs and up farther still to cup her breasts. He felt her nipples harden against his palms as he massaged her tender flesh and he gently pinched and twisted them while his mouth fused with hers.

Stephanie felt a warm rush of heat low in her belly. Overwhelming desire streaked through her like jolts of electricity as he kept up his sweet assault. She needed to touch him, to feel his naked body against hers. She struggled to unbutton his shirt but her fingers were clumsy and wouldn't cooperate. In frustration she ripped the shirt open, buttons flying, and ran her hands over his smooth muscled chest. Her mouth followed her hands and when she licked and sucked on his nipples, his head fell back and she felt a tremor pass through him.

She took a step back from him, drunk with the desire. She was trembling so hard that if she hadn't leaned back against the wall, she would have fallen to the floor. She ran her hands down his chest to his waist and unbuckled his belt, pulling it from the loops and throwing it aside. As she unbuttoned his waistband, his hands reached out to open her shirt, trailing his fingers over the bare skin he revealed as he slowly opened each button.

She slipped her arms around him, her fingers finding their way under his waistband to pull him against her as she kissed and nipped his neck and throat. Her eyes slid shut and she leaned her head against his shoulder as her hands glided over the smooth muscles of his back and ass. His erection pulsed against her but when she moved her hands around to stroke him, Ranger grabbed them and again pinned them against the wall, over her head again.

His eyes were hooded with lust when he looked down at her. "No Babe, not yet."

He bent his head to take her mouth in a searing kiss that left her with no doubt that he wanted nothing more that to be buried in her.

Ranger trailed his open mouth down her throat, over her collar bone and the swell of her breast. She whimpered when he took her nipple between his lips then stopped, just holding her there. Stephanie froze, her breath caught in her throat, tension coiling through her as she waited. For what, she didn't quite know. Finally he sucked her nipple into his mouth, hard and fast and she cried out as pulses of lightening shot through her veins and desire curled in her belly. A warm flood of juices slicked her thighs and she whimpered as she struggled to free her hands so she could touch him.

Her head thrashed from side to side as he continued to torture her. He released her hands and she fisted them in his hair as his mouth worked its way down her body, kissing and nipping his way over her ribs and French kissing her belly button. He could feel her muscles quiver as he kissed and sucked the smooth skin of her belly, and when he scraped his teeth over her hip bone, she gave a strangled sob. He was on his knees in front of her, nuzzling and kissing her curls, massaging her thighs when her legs finally gave out and she started to slip to the floor. He caught her up in his arms and captured her mouth in a heart-stopping kiss as he carried her to the bed.

Depositing her in the middle of the huge four-poster bed, he stepped back and stripped out of his clothes while Stephanie watched him through her lashes. She sighed as the late afternoon sunlight played over the planes and valleys of his thinner, but still beautifully muscled body. He had gone through so many changes, but she licked her lips in anticipation as her eyes swept over him.

His thick, heavy length strained for release and as she watched him shed his pants, she instinctively spread her legs. He knelt over her and she reached for him, stroking his length and cupping his balls, massaging him, sending a shudder through his body. His drew a ragged breath and groaned her name as his head dropped forward. His silken hair drifted over her breasts causing a delicious shiver to flash through her. He took her mouth in a burning kiss, his tongue mimicking the primal dance they were about to begin.

He pushed her legs farther apart and bracing himself on his forearms, bent his head to capture her nipples, first one, then the other until she was moaning and writhing under him. Unable to wait any longer, he positioned himself over her and she wrapped her arms around him, her nails curled into his back, pulling him to her. Her eyes drifted shut as he lowered his weight onto her, and she felt the tip of his shaft poised at her slick entrance.

Her eyes flew open. "Wait, wait," she panted, as he was about to drive into her, "Condom, you need a condom," and she pushed at his shoulders.

His head dropped to her chest as he stilled his movements. He fought to get himself under control and to process what she was saying. Rolling off of her, he lay face down on the bed, his hands fisted in the bedding. Stephanie wrapped the shirt tightly around herself and struggled to sit up.

"Christ," Ranger said into the comforter, then pushed himself up off the bed and snagged his pants from the floor, pulling them on and half zipping them. He fished around in the pocket and pulled out his cell phone. "I don't have any. I'll call Hector; I know he has a supply." He gave her a rueful smile. "I'm sorry Babe; it never occurred to me that you wouldn't be on birth control."

She turned to look up at him. "It isn't for birth control," she said softly.

He stared at her for a second and snapped the phone shut. "Okay. Then why?" His brow furrowed.

Stephanie took a deep steadying breath and licked her lips. "Tessa," was all she could say.

He watched as a dozen emotions flashed across her face before she turned away from him. Ranger let his head drop back and he looked at the ceiling as he blew out a deep breath. Some secrets, he decided in that moment, weren't worth keeping. He dropped down on the edge of the bed as she scooted back to lean against the headboard, her long legs stretched out and crossed at the ankles.

She could feel his eyes on her as she watched her own fingers toy with the bottom edge of the shirt she wore. "Stephanie, look at me," he said as he reach across and braced his hand on the bed, effectively trapping her in place. "Look at me," he said again softly. She reluctantly raised her eyes to his. "Tessa isn't who you think she is."

Stephanie arched an eyebrow at him, her expression wary, but she sat silently, waiting for an explanation.

He took a deep breath. "Needless to say, I shouldn't be sharing this information with you, but _I _need you to know." He ran his hand through his hair. "There is no Tessa Van Dyke. Her name is Caroline and she works for … a covert agency. She's a happily married mother of four and you wouldn't even recognize her if you saw her on the street." He watched as her blue eyes widened in surprise. "She specializes in training agents for deep cover missions."

"So why all the insults and snide remarks? Why the whole show in the restaurant?" She looked away from him, "You called her 'Babe' and I …" her voice broke and she pressed her fingers to her lips.

"She agreed to help me throw off the Feds so they couldn't use threats against you to control me. I kissed her that one time and that was it. I'll swear on whatever you want me to; I never touched her, never slept with her, there was nothing physical in our relationship … ever."

He cupped her cheek in his hand and turned her face to his. "Stephanie, the last woman I was with was you, and the only woman I want to be with, is you. I need to know you believe me."

She studied his face for a long minute, holding his eyes with hers. Wrapping her hand around his wrist, she leaned her face into his palm and nodded. "I believe you," she whispered, "I believe you."

He leaned his forehead against hers, "Thank you." He knew what it cost her to trust him. He had broken just about every promise he had made to her.

He felt her take a deep breath and pulled back to look at her. "About Niko …" she started.

"No, Babe! You don't owe me any explanation. I'm the one who wanted you to fall in love, to get on with your life. I pushed you two together and whatever happened between you …"

"I didn't sleep with him," she whispered as she pressed her lips against his. She felt him take a deep breath and slowly smile against her mouth.

He kissed her face gently, gliding his lips over her forehead and eyelids, cheeks and jaw line, coming to rest against her lips.

"Do we still need that condom?" he asked as he teased the corner of her mouth with the tip of his tongue. He felt her smile and slowly shake her head 'no.'

He kissed her then, hard and hot, pressing her back against the headboard. His lips only left hers after he slid off the bed and stood up. She smiled as she watched him unzip and walk around the bed. He stopped at the foot and kicked off the trousers, climbing onto the bed and crawling toward her. She laughed as her jungle cat stalked her, then shrieked when he grabbed her by the ankles and dragged her down the bed.

Straddling her, he braced his hands on either side of her head, peppering her laughing face with kisses, _God,_ he thought, _how I missed the sound of her laughter. _By the time he worked his way down her throat and had laved, then marked, the sweet spot where her neck and shoulder met, her laughter had died and was replaced by sighs.

Stephanie squirmed under him as Ranger nibbled his way from her throat to her collarbone as he slowly made his way down her body. Peeling open the tuxedo shirt to reveal her pink tipped breasts, he smiled into her eyes. "I feel like I'm unwrapping a present, Babe." He licked and sucked the smooth skin between her breasts, then slid lower to lave her bellybutton and lower still to her mound, kissing and nipping the delicate flesh.

Settling between her thighs he spread her lips and she moaned as he caressed her with his talented tongue. "God, Woman, you taste so sweet," he murmured against her, and she felt the vibrations to the tips of her fingers and toes. He ran his hands back up her body and kneaded her breasts, twisting and plucking her nipples until she was almost sobbing. His tongue taunted and teased, taking her higher, coiling her tighter, and then he would pull her back from the edge.

She was panting and begging for release when he finally took pity on her and slid one long finger into her, then a second, plunging them in and out with increasing speed and force. His tongue matched the rhythm of his fingers and she was lost in the sensations he was causing. Her hands fisted in his hair, holding him to her as she writhed against his mouth. When he gently sucked her between his lips she came undone, breathing, "Carlos … Oh God, Carlos ..." her body arching off the bed as pleasure that bordered on pain washed over her.

He stayed with her as her body came down from an orgasm that seemed to last forever. She reached for him, pulling him up her body to her lips and she kissed him deeply, tasting herself on his mouth. Lying with his face next to hers, he feathered kisses on her forehead and eyelids, her cheeks and chin.

Their eyes locked as he rose up and hovered over her. He slid into her, one agonizing inch at a time, until he filled her warm, welcoming body. His muscles trembled with the effort it took for him to move slowly. She gave that gasp that made his heart clench in his chest as he struggled against his own need to move and his fear of hurting her.

"Please, Carlos, please …" she begged and started to move against him.

"Patience, Amante," he pressed her hip into the mattress, holding her still. "It's been a long time and I don't want to hurt you."

He nibbled at her lips, teasing her mouth with the tip of his tongue until she opened for him with a sigh. He slipped his silken tongue between her lips and slid it slowly over hers, setting the rhythm that their hips would follow. With exquisite care, he pulled out of her and sank back in. Building slowly, both of them moaning their pleasure, they moved together.

She wrapped her legs around his waist and dragged her nails up his back, spurring him on. They wound tighter, climbed higher, couldn't get enough of each other. Eyes closed, lost in their own pleasure, he drove into her and she matched him thrust for thrust. Her head arched back and she realized that the low, keening sound she heard was coming from her. When he slipped his hand between them and stroked her, she came in an explosion of colors, whispering his name over and over.

Her body clenched around him like a satin glove and her pulsing muscles triggered his own orgasm. He withdrew and slammed into her one last time, spilling into her, groaning out her name before he sank down into her arms. They lay against the pillows together in a tangle of arms and legs, nuzzling each other and sharing kisses as they basked in the afterglow of their lovemaking.

She lay curled against his chest, listening to his steady reassuring heartbeat, wondering how she could bear to lose him again. He lay in her arms and knew what it felt like to come home, home to Stephanie. They both felt complete.

RSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRS

"Stephanie, you know I can't give you details." He ran his hands through his still wet hair. He had to make her understand that there were some secrets that had to be kept.

"I don't need details. I just want to know the reason why you'd choose to throw your whole life away. Was what we had so unimportant that you could just leave it behind?" She sat with her feet tucked up under the big fluffy terry robe she had wrapped around her.

They were sitting on the couch in front of the fireplace. Roberts had lit the fire and set out dinner for them on the coffee table while they were in the bathroom. Steph blushed when she thought about what the man might have heard and knew she could never look him in the face again. They had finished their meal and Ranger had just watched Stephanie devour two slices of cheesecake with whipped cream and fresh raspberries. Apparently the sugar had renewed her energy which had been sapped by hours of lovemaking in bed and in the shower and a few other places as well. She had questions and she wanted the answers … now!

Ranger blew out a deep breath. "About a hundred years ago, when I was a cocksure kid, I was part of an elite unit. We were sent all over the world on these … special … assignments. You know the kind I mean, the ones that you don't read about in the papers. Anyway, we were sent into this mountain village that was supposed to be a rebel stronghold." He scrubbed his hands over his face, searching for the right words. "We were supposed to pick up this real bastard, murdered whole villages … women, kids, elderly, herded them into churches and burned the place down around them; he needed to be put out of business."

He got up from the couch and walked over to a window. Leaning against the frame, he looked through the glass. He wasn't seeing the beautifully landscaped gardens outside; he saw a poor village clinging to the side of a bleak mountain in deep snow and bitter cold, a place that even God had forgotten.

He shook his head as if to clear the images. "We didn't gather our own intel, we just acted on what we were provided with. We came into the village after a series of air strikes, and were met with heavy weapons fire. In minutes, half the unit was dead. We fired back at anything that moved."

He came back to the couch and sat next to her again. "Long story short, we didn't find a single rebel … just the women and kids that we had killed." He looked into her face, searching for the disgust he expected to find there. He only saw pain in her eyes, "Oh God!" she whispered. She reached out to touch him.

"Half of our men were dead, but we didn't find a single weapon in that village. We'd been set up. All we could do was pick up our dead and wounded and get the hell out of there." He took her hand and threaded his fingers through hers.

"So we get back to our base and the next day the commanding officer shows up with a squad of MPs. He announces that we're all under arrest. We're all going to be charged with war crimes and court martialed, probably executed. Our government was going to make examples of us, and they carted us all off to prison."

He leaned forward and picked up his coffee cup, then put it back on the table. "After sitting in solitary for about a week, this suit shows up and says he has a deal for me. He slides this paper across the table at me. Sign it, he says, and he can arrange for me to return to my unit, back to active duty, the charges will be dropped, my record will be cleared, he can make all my problems disappear. All I have to do is agree to go on a mission sometime within the next ten years. Just one mission, and only if they need me, I might not even get called, and all the shit will go away. Poof! Vanish into thin air!" He barked a bitter laugh. "Hell, I couldn't sign my name fast enough."

He leaned his head on the back of the couch and looked up at the ceiling. Steph slid closer to him and he put his arm around her shoulders. "So here I am. I couldn't refuse the mission, there's no statute of limitations on war crimes. They showed me the evidence they had. I would have been tried and convicted and executed. They would have confiscated everything that had my name on it. My family, my friends, you … nobody would have gotten a penny."

"But if you had gone on trial, wouldn't the other men who were there be willing to testify for you, couldn't you have proven that you were set up?"

He brought his hand to his mouth and kissed it. "They made us all the same offer, Steph. I'm the last one to be called for a mission."

"How many men were there? How many men went on these missions?"

He turned his head to look at her. "I'm the twenty-ninth."

He could see the fear in her eyes, but she swallowed hard and asked, "How many came back?"

Ranger lifted his hand to her cheek, "Babe …"

"How many? How many came back?" Her voice was tinged with panic.

Blowing out a deep breath he answered her, "Two. Only two." He watched her face crumple and the tears spill down her cheeks. He gathered her into his arms and pulled her against his chest, tucking her head under his chin. He rocked her slowly, trying to find words to comfort her, but there were no words of comfort for either of then.

He had carried her to the bed and they had comforted each other making slow, sweet love. They had set the fires burning by rediscovering all of the secret places that made them gasp or moan or sigh. This time they had stared into each other's eyes as he moved in her. She came, arching her back off the mattress, sobbing, "I love you …" and seconds later, he followed her over the edge.

She lay in his arms, wanting to beg him to let her stay, but she knew it would be useless. She was a distraction and just her being there made things even more risky for him. She didn't want to leave, but staying wasn't an option either. And going home and sitting there with her hands in her lap, wasn't her style. There had to be something she could do to help him. All she had to do was figure out what that was!

RSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRS

Ranger kissed Stephanie and climbed out of bed. He was supposed to meet with some of Ramon's top men to plan for the arrival the Russians the next afternoon, and because of Stephanie, he was already running late. She followed him into the dressing room and put her arms around him from behind, laying a trail of kisses all over his back and shoulders. She watched in the full length mirror as she let her fingers drift over his abs and through the line of silky black hair that led to his shaft. His cock twitched and he grabbed her hands, spun her around and smacked her on the bare ass, sending her back into the bedroom.

"You are a temptation, Stephanie. Just hold that thought for later. The sooner I go take care of this, the sooner I'll be back." Of course he couldn't tell her what was going on, so she just lay on the bed, naked, watching him get ready. He kept going back over to the bed to kiss or touch her.

He stood with his hands on his hips smiling down at her, shaking his head. She was artfully arranged on the comforter, trying to tempt him to stay with her. She arched her back and licked her lips, doing her best to look seductive, than gave up and started to laugh. He grabbed her up in his arms and kissed her soundly then fell back onto the bed, on top of her.

He was torturing her already hyper-sensitive nipples when a sharp knock on the door brought Ranger to his feet. A gun materialized in his hand, and the cold reality of the situation they were in slapped Stephanie right in the face. She grabbed the comforter and covered herself, leaning back against the headboard. Reaching under the pillows, her hand found the small automatic Ranger had given her after Marcellino had tried to attack her, and she slid it under the covers, aiming it at the door.

Ramon opened the door and Che strolled in. Paco and Tony, laden down with boxes and bags, stood in the doorway, waiting to be told to come in. Che shot Steph a look and a quick wink, but otherwise ignored her.

"Ehhh, llave, your little pussy must be quite a wildcat. We can all hear you roar like a lion in the jungle." He broke off in a dirty laugh.

Ramon threw his head back and laughed, clapped Che on the shoulder, then stuck his gun in the back of his waistband. "Si amigo, I feel like my old self again!" Ranger narrowed his eyes and turned to look at her, his lip curled, sneering. He was all Ramon now. "She's hot and tight and she fights me, every time. If I get tired of her, maybe I'll give you a taste." He took a step toward her and she turned away from him with a shudder, and Ramon's cruel laugh hung in the air.

Che motioned to the couch and the gofers deposited the packages there and left, closing the door behind them. He watched them leave and turned to Ranger. "We have some planning to do for tomorrow." He tipped his head toward Steph and raised his eyebrows at Ranger, who nodded his understanding.

"Steph," Ranger walked over toward the bed and picked up the big fluffy robe she had worn earlier. He held it open for her, so that she could slip out of the bed and right into it. "Why don't you take a shower while we talk? Then you can take a look at all this stuff that Hector ordered for you." He picked up her gun where from the bed and slipped it in his pocket.

She understood that they needed privacy and she realized that this was the perfect opportunity for her to eavesdrop. She nodded and put on the robe, pulling the sash tightly around her waist. A smiling Che handed her a Neiman Marcus shopping bag and she peeked in to find practically every top end product made for curly hair. She let out a little squeal and threw her arms around Hector, planting a big wet kiss on his cheek. _Silly men!_ She thought to herself as she smiled at them. _They really think I'm going to be distracted by hair care products?_ She almost snorted.

Tipping her head up to Ranger she kissed him thoroughly and headed into the bathroom. She made a lot of noise, pulling all the bottles and jars out of the bag and putting them on the counter, then turned on the shower.

She tiptoed into the dressing room and over to the bedroom door, pressing her ear to it. She could plainly hear their voices, but couldn't quite make out what they were saying. Cautiously, she tried to turn the handle, but it made a slight squeak and she froze. Ranger and Hector's voices stopped at the sound.

Not sure where the sound came from, Ranger and Che exchanged a look and pulled out their guns. Standing to the side of the bedroom door, Che threw it open, but the hall was empty. Ranger immediately strode into the bathroom and startled a shampoo covered Steph who stood in the shower.

"Sorry, Babe. Just wanted to bring in your gun." He took it from his pocket and placed it on the counter and went back into the bedroom.

Steph rinsed off with lightening speed and wrapped herself in the robe, snagged a glass off the counter and flew back into the dressing room. Putting the glass to the door and her ear to the glass, she was able to hear bits of the conversation. She made mental notes of the names and places, plans for tomorrow's meeting, which of Ramon's men could be trusted to do the job, which ones might present a threat, and the Russians … she had to remember everything about the Russians.

She was concentrating so hard that at first she didn't realize that Ranger and Hector had stopped talking. It struck her that she had scraped the glass across the door and she bolted back into the bathroom. Ranger threw the dressing room door open and stalked into the bathroom to find a naked Stephanie standing in front of the sink, drinking a glass of water.

She jumped when she saw his reflection in the mirror, "Hey," she looked at him. "Is something wrong?"

"Sorry Babe, I ... uh … just came in to tell you we were going to the guesthouse now. Do you want me to post a guard at the door, just in case?" She shook her head 'no' and pointed at the gun lying on the counter. He just smiled and gave her a long slow kiss, then he left.

It was a good thing he was wearing shoes, she thought. He hadn't felt the wet carpeting in the dressing room, in front of the bedroom door. She waited a few minutes after she heard the bedroom door close before she went into the small office off the bedroom and sat at the desk, wishing she could send herself an email, but knowing that it could be traced. Scribbling down all the information she had gathered on a piece of paper, she folded it and slid it behind the mirror in the bathroom. That would have to do for now.

She went back into the bedroom and collected the boxes and bags and took them into the dressing room. They were filled with beautiful clothes and shoes and very sexy lingerie. All the price tags had been removed, but she knew from the designers labels just how much everything cost. She slipped into a delicious bra and panty set, slacks and a silk sweater that all fit like it had been made for her. Sitting on the leather bench, she opened the half dozen boxes of shoes and tried on every pair. It was almost as good as going to a shoe sale. She found an empty drawer in the built in dresser and put the undies away.

Reaching for a hanger, she stumbled over a shoe she had left on the floor. Losing her balance, she tumbled through Ranger's clothes that hung on the rod, and hit the wall behind them. She landed on her knees, staring open mouthed at her hands on the paneling. The panel had moved. She reached up and shoved the clothes to the side and inspected the wall. Half way down from the top of the panel was a shallow groove, just deep enough for finger tips to fit in. She pulled and the panel slid silently open revealing a narrow, dimly lit stairway behind the wall.

The thought that she shouldn't go down those stairs never crossed her mind. Steph dashed back into the bedroom and locked the door, then flew into the bathroom and grabbed her gun, slipping it into her pocket. She stepped onto the stairway, pulled the clothes back where they belonged and slid the panel almost shut. There was more than enough light to see where she was going and she slowly went down the concrete stairway, stopping every few steps to listen, but all she heard was the pounding of her own heart and her own ragged breathing. When she got to the bottom she found a long passageway that went off to the right, and a shorter one went left.

She followed the passage on the left and at the end found another sliding panel. She listened and heard distant music, but cracked the panel open a fraction of an inch and peeked out. She was looking into a huge garage where several expensive cars were parked, keys hanging on a board by the door. A guy in a jumpsuit came out of no where and walked right in front of her. She was so surprised she almost fell on her ass. Holding her breath, she made sure the panel was securely closed, she took off down the other hallway as fast as she dared.

Her courage returned by the time she got to the other passage. This one was much longer and led to a short flight of stairs that had a trapdoor at the top. Steph sat on the steps and listened. This time she didn't hear anything but her own heart, hammering in her chest. Her curiosity finally got the better of her and, taking a deep breath, she pushed open the trapdoor and took a look. When she didn't see anyone, she climbed out into a gardener's shed, filled with all kinds of gardening tools and equipment. She peeked out the small window and could see that she was on the other side of a garden, far away from the house. Whoever had designed this place had included an escape route.

Not knowing how long Ranger would be gone, Steph started back to the stairs that led to the dressing room. She was halfway up the flight when she heard voices coming from be hind the wall and she stopped to listen. She clearly heard Roberts was giving instructions for the room to be thoroughly cleaned. Señor Escobar would be using this room for an important business meeting. Stephanie smiled to herself. Tomorrow, she was going to a meeting!

Pleased with herself, she went back to Ramon's bedroom and finished putting away all her new clothes. She made sure there was no evidence of her snooping then plopped down on the couch and flipped on the TV. It was after 1am when she gave up waiting for Ranger and got ready for bed. She put on a tissue thin, sapphire blue silk nightgown, slid under the covers, and almost immediately fell asleep. She was barely aware of Ranger wrapping his arms around her and gathering her to him when he came to bed.

RSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRS

The sun was just rising when Stephanie woke up. Even before she opened her eyes she knew from his breathing that Ranger was still asleep. She studied him again, the changes in his face and body, the new scars and tattoos that she didn't even really see. Strangely, the thing she did notice was that the scar where Scrog shot him was gone, perfect, smooth skin was in its place.

He was thinner, leaner, but the satin skin over his beautiful abs and corded muscles felt the same under her hands. Those amazing eyelashes that were fanned out over his cheeks as he slept were the same. His mouth looked different, but felt the same on her body and the sensations his goatee produced on her skin were unexpectedly erotic.

She felt his breathing change and without opening his eyes, he turned his head toward her. "Morning, Babe," he murmured.

She brushed her lips back and forth across his, then teased the corner of his mouth with the tip of her tongue, making him part his lips in a smile. She leaned up on her elbow and kissed him, sliding her tongue into his mouth, kissing him slowly and deeply. He brought his hand up to cup her cheek and while their tongues danced, she pulled up the hem of her gown and straddled him.

He smiled up at her, "So, you want to drive, huh?"

"Oh, I don't know," she replied. "I think I just want to play with the stick shift!" She laughed when he rewarded her with a groan that came from deep in his chest.

He reached up and pulled the tiny nightgown straps down her arms revealing her breasts. "There," he grinned, I like that view much better." He palmed her breasts and she leaned into his hands as he massaged her tender flesh. Sitting up, he kissed each nipple, biting down gently on them and listened to her hiss in a breath before he leaned back against the pillows. He folded his hands behind his head and watched her through slitted eyes as she slowly pulled the nightgown off over her head.

She leaned down to kiss him again, and she brushed her nipples back and forth over his chest. Hers pebbled, but so did his and she moved down so that she could torture him with her tongue and teeth, sucking and nipping at them, making him gasp.

She kissed her way down his body and he moaned her name. When she outlined his abs with her tongue, she could feel him pulsing between her breasts. She trailed wet kisses over his stomach to French kiss his navel and he arched up off the bed when she sank her teeth into his hip bone. As she moved lowed, his hands fisted the sheets and his breathing changed. His muscles clenched and quivered when she nuzzled the silky black hair that led to his shaft and he groaned almost painfully.

He twitched in anticipation when she moved down and settled between his legs. His breathing was ragged, coming in short pants and his groans turned to growls when she finally started to stroke him. She moved slowly, testing his control, tormenting him the way he tortured her.

She wrapped her hand around the base of his shaft and lightly stroked his length. She felt the shudder that went through him as she cupped his balls and massaged him while she continued to stroke him with her other hand. He held his breath when she bent her head and licked his length over and over. By the time she placed her lips on the head of his shaft and gently sucked the pre cum that had formed on the slit, his head was thrashing back and forth and he was muttering in Spanish.

She stilled and their eyes locked as he watched her lick her lips and bend her head to take him into her hot mouth. He arched his head back and an "Ahhhhhh" escaped him. She enjoyed having Ranger at her mercy, and she sucked and stroked and swirled her tongue around the length of him. His fingers flexed in her hair when she took as him as far as she could into her mouth and when she made an "Mmmmmm" sound his hips shot up off the bed. She sucked him firmly, sometimes scraping her teeth up his shaft to nibble on the head, changing rhythm whenever he seemed too close to coming.

Finally she increased the pressure and speed of her movements, sucking and stroking him as he passed the limits of his self control.

Unable to hold back any more, he wound his hands into her hair and thrust into her mouth. Growling her name as he lifted his hips, he came long and hard. She stayed with him, milking him until he was empty then kissed her way back up his slack limbed body.

His eyes closed, he gathered her to him and kissed her gently. "Thank you, Babe."

"Manoso's Woman was happy to oblige," she said with a smile. She pulled the covers back up over them and felt him drift back to sleep, while she lay there, trying to find a way to save his life.

Ranger and Stephanie were friends and lovers and partners.

Now they were running out of time …

_**TBC…**_

_**A/N: So how was the smut? Ranger and Steph are rather proud of themselves and needless to say, they're both a lot happier and more relaxed. So how is Steph gonna help save Ranger? Got any ideas? I'm still a review slut, so tell me what you think she should do!**_

_**Thanks to all the wonderful readers and reviewers. I will respond to every review that allows a reply!**_


	30. Final Fantasy!

_**Disclaimer: Everyone belongs to Janet Evanovich except the ones that are mine, and I'm just playing.**_

_**Warnings: SMUT, Terminal Sappiness, Angst, Language, and All 12 books.**_

_**A/N: Special thanks to my Dream Team: Super Karen my fabulous Editor, Luisa, Brain Stormer and Translator Extraordinario, and Lindsay my Voice of Reason, Lisa for making me laugh, and all the BC Babes for support, friendship, suggestions, hand holding, cheer leading and general ass kicking. I love you all!**_

**_Sorry I'm a day late ... I had technical difficulties!_**

_**Thank you to all of you wonderful readers and reviewers! I've tried to answer each and every review that you've sent. You've all made my Inner Review Slut very happy!**_

_**Don't forget to read Kashy's fabulous 'Bad Medicine' and 'Keep The Faith' … you don't want to miss them! Read and review them please, you'll be glad you did! **_

_**The Name Of The Game!**_

_**By Stayce (XJerseyGirl)**_

_**Chapter 30: Final Fantasy!**_

The sun was fully up when Ranger woke again. Steph was still asleep, curled against his chest. He could feel her soft breath against his skin, her wild curls spread over his arm and shoulder, her warm, welcoming body molded against his. Under any other circumstance he would have counted himself a lucky man. But not today! Today, more than any other, all the things he had lost came home to him with a vengeance, and all he felt was overwhelming anger and resentment.

All the 'shouldn't haves' echoed inside his head. He shouldn't have signed that contract with the government, he shouldn't have gotten involved with Stephanie, he shouldn't have allowed himself to feel anything, he shouldn't have forgotten that he was a soldier … But he had, and God help him, he had to admit to himself that if he had to do it all over again, he wouldn't have missed a minute of his life with Stephanie Plum.

He gently lifted the curls out of her face and she stirred, smiling in her sleep. She brushed a kiss over his chest, and then with a sigh, she settled her cheek against him. He couldn't help but smile back as he studied her, memorizing her all over again. The creamy skin, made all the paler by her curly dark hair, the face that wore every emotion she felt, those pouty lips that begged to be kissed.

He let his hand drift down her side and over her hip. She had a woman's body, all soft curves, beautiful pink tipped breasts, made more so by the attention he had lavished on them this morning, and then there were those killer legs. He could close his eyes and feel her legs wind around him as he buried himself in her. Just thinking about it made him harden against her soft skin.

He watched as she licked her lips with the tip of her tongue. She said that _he_ had a talented mouth … she had no clue about her own. The things she could do to him with that hot little mouth of hers. He was lucky that she never realized the power she held over him. When she woke him earlier she had damn near blown the top of his head off. That was the way he wanted to die, watching her take him in her mouth.

It was always her reactions to him that turned him on the most, that lit the fire low in his belly. Stephanie fed his primal instincts and tested the limits of his self-control. It was the way she moved under him, the little noises that she made, and the way she looked at him. It was always more than sex with her, when he made love with Stephanie, he always felt like he was claiming his mate.

Tonight it would be all over, he thought. She would be safe at home and he could refocus on the mission. He wondered if he could just will away the sight and smell and feel of her. Wishful thinking, he supposed. This woman was everything that he had always denied himself, everything he had never known he wanted. And now Fate, or whatever the hell it was, had brought her here … to rub his nose in it … to remind him of what he was losing, all over again … apparently once wasn't enough. What terrible thing had he done, he wondered, that he deserved to be punished like this? Wouldn't being dead be enough?

He considered slipping out of bed without waking her, but she murmured in her sleep, moving her lips against his skin and he let himself get lost in the sensations. She tightened her arm around him, as if she knew, even in her sleep, that this would be the last time they would wake up together. Her eyes fluttered open and immediately sought out his, making him wonder if she'd read his mind.

He saw the sadness that flashed across her face and she wrapped her arms around his neck, burrowing into him. She tightened her grip, twining her leg with his, holding onto him as if that could keep him from slipping away from her. Ranger rolled Stephanie onto her back and he slowly stretched out on top of her, nuzzling the side of her face, inhaling her unique scent. He knew how much she loved this, the skin to skin contact, his weight pressing her into the mattress, their hearts beating against each other. She said it made them feel real, not just a product of her imagination. She closed her eyes and sighed in contentment.

Finally, afraid of crushing her, he braced his weight on his forearms and gently kissed her on the mouth, his tongue slipping between her lips to slide over hers. She playfully nipped at the tip, making him smile. But when she closed her lips around his tongue and started to suck, she felt the shudder that passed through him and heard him groan low in his throat.

He dragged his mouth from hers and trailed wet kisses along her jaw to her ear, then down her throat to the juncture of her neck and shoulder. It was one of the most sensitive places on her body, and Ranger knew that he could have her writhing under him in minutes. He laved the spot, running small, hypnotic circles with the tip of his tongue. A small moan escaped her as her eyes fluttered shut and she tipped her head to the side.

He had promised himself that he wouldn't mark her, not wanting to invite questions that she couldn't answer once she got home, but he couldn't help himself, he needed to leave his mark on his woman. He sucked her tender flesh into his mouth and she gave a ragged gasp as her back arched off the bed. One hand came up to fist in his hair, the other curled into his back, both holding him to her, prolonging the delicious sensations that washed over her.

By the time he was satisfied with the bruise he left on her, she was panting and her hands lay limp beside her head. His mouth moved down to scrape his teeth over her collarbones and to kiss the swell of her breasts. He slid his arms under her back, his hands curling over her shoulders, and raised her breasts up to his mouth. Ranger brushed his soft warm lips over them, feeling her nipples pebble under his mouth. He teased them with the tip of his tongue, then took first one and then the other between his lips and sipped, making her cry out and arch her back, offering more of herself to his mouth. He kissed his way back and forth, lavishing attention on her breasts. She rewarded him with gasps and sighs, raking her nails over his back and scalp, urging him on.

Moving back up her body, he knelt over her to kiss her sweet mouth hungrily. Her hands trailed over his shoulders and chest, her nails scraping delicately over his nipples. She traced his abs with her fingertips, teased his navel then traveled down through the arrow of silky black hair that led to his cock. She took him, hard and hot, in her hands and stroked him, making his breath catch in his chest. A tremor shook him, and the electricity from her touch shot through his veins.

He cupped her face in his hand and brushed a finger over her mouth. Catching it between her lips, she sucked his finger into her mouth, swirling her tongue around it. His cock twitched in her hands and his eyes closed, a groan escaping him when she sucked on his finger. His head fell forward and his silken hair swept over her breasts, making her shiver.

Stephanie released Ranger's finger from her mouth and his hand trailed over her chin and down the pale column of her throat. His fingers skimmed the smooth skin between her breasts, over her ribs and belly, making her body break out in goose flesh. He watched her with hooded eyes while he toyed with her curls and cupped her mound, and when he finally slipped his long fingers into her wet heat, her head arched back and her hips came up off the bed.

In an act of complete surrender to him, she spread her legs and bent her knees, planting her feet flat on the bed, opening herself to him. His own breathing was ragged and labored as he watched his fingers slowly sliding in and out of her, his thumb whispering over her clit until she started to whimper and move against his hand.

The soft sounds she made were his undoing. His control almost gone, he slicked himself in her juices and settled into the cradle of her thighs. He steadied himself for a moment with his cock poised at her slick entrance, then filled her with a single, slow stroke. Lowering his mouth to hers he swallowed her gasp, trapping it in his mouth with a passionate kiss.

He braced himself on his forearms and threaded his fingers into her hair, watching the emotions play across her expressive face. Her eyes darkened and drifted shut as her body welcomed him and he knew the moment she allowed herself to be swept away by the physical pleasure of their love making.

He slowly pulled almost all the way out of her, then thrust home again savoring the overwhelming sensations. Stephanie slid the flat of her foot down the back of his leg, then wrapped her long legs around his hips, tearing a moan of pleasure from him. They started slowly, savoring each other, reveling in their coupling, but the need for release overtook them, building, tightening, spiraling out of control. She gave herself to him with wild abandon, and he took everything she gave. He pounded into her mercilessly and she wrapped her legs higher around his waist, meeting him stroke for stroke.

As much as he wanted this last time to be special for her, to make a memory to last her forever, he would have a memory, too. The vision of her face, lost in pleasure, her sapphire eyes darkened to stormy blue, her wet lips parted as they struggled toward release, would be etched in his mind's eye until his dying breath.

Little cries escaped her and she clawed at his back as she moved frantically under him. He slipped his hand between them and stroked her, watching her face as she came, long and hard. He caught her cry of pleasure, bordering pain, in a kiss.

Stephanie sobbed his name against his lips, "Carlos … Carlos," the sweetest sound, that spurred his climax.

Her muscles pulsated around him, clenching him like a velvet glove, bringing him over the edge with her. Ranger rose up and braced himself over her, eyes closed, head thrown back. He slammed into her one final time, her tight wet heat throbbing around him. He stilled, then roared her name as he spilled into her.

Minutes later, neither of them capable of moving, he still lay buried in her. They shared soft gentle kisses while their breathing returned to normal and their heart rates dropped from the stratosphere. Finally, he rolled to his side, bringing her with him.

"I love you," he whispered against her temple.

"Then don't send me away. Let me stay with you." She had promised herself she wouldn't do this, but the words slipped out anyway.

He tipped her head back to look into her eyes. "You know I can't take that chance with your life."

"But it's my life, my choice to make." She knew the argument wouldn't work, but she had to try.

"No, it isn't. I have to know that you're safe so I can focus on what needs to be done." What he didn't say was that if he was going to die, he didn't want her around to watch it.

"Please, just let me be with you. I'll stay right here in this room. If there's trouble, I swear that I'll run like a scared rabbit." Desperation tinged her voice.

"Stephanie, if there's trouble there won't be anyplace to run. There won't be any safe place. Babe, this is one thing even you can't deny. The odds of a positive outcome are almost nil. Staying would be the same as signing your own death warrant and I won't let you do that."

"Don't you understand? I love you! I'd rather die with you than live without you." Tears that she couldn't hold back spilled down her cheeks.

He pulled her against his chest and buried his face in her hair. He could feel her hot tears slipping over his skin. He had asked himself what terrible thing he had done, to deserve to be punished with this kind of mission. At the same time, though, he knew that he must have done something wonderful to have been rewarded with this woman.

He held her, rocking her gently, until her tears stopped. "I hate this, Babe, but neither one of us has a choice in this matter. Tonight you go home and pick up your life where you left off."

He could feel the fight go out of her as he kissed her eyes and mouth softly. "I'm going to call Roberts for breakfast. Do you want to take a shower with me, or do you want to sleep?"

Stephanie watched him while he made his call. She kissed him softly, then got up and took his hand, tugging him off of the bed, leading the way to the bathroom. She turned on the shower and adjusted the temperature and stepped under the stream, pulling him in with her. Taking the shampoo bottle off the shower shelf, he worked a generous amount through her hair and she leaned back against him as he washed and then conditioned it. He washed her body with the same gentle care and when he finished, she returned the favor.

Ranger wrapped her in his arms and kissed her thoroughly as they stood under the warm spray. He brushed the wet hair out of her face, "This reminds me of that waterfall on Roratoa," he said, recalling happier times. She smiled and nodded, then proved to him that she remembered too. Kissing and nuzzling his neck and shoulder, she marked him in the same place as he did her. She kissed her way down his chest to torment his nipples and lower to outline his abs with her tongue, making his muscles quiver under her mouth.

Kneeling in front of him, Stephanie nuzzled the soft black hair that lead to his already hard shaft. She laid kisses on his heavy length and rubbed him against her cheeks and lips. He tunneled his fingers through her wet hair, holding it back so that he could watch her face when she finally took him to heaven with that mouth of hers. His shout of "Dios Mio, Stephanie!" echoed off the tiles of the bathroom and he slid to his knees, his head on her shoulder.

By the time they made it out of the bathroom, Roberts had set up breakfast on the coffee table and was gone. They sat next to one another on the couch, needing to touch each other.

"So tonight, huh?" she asked as she pushed her food around the plate, suddenly having no appetite. She picked up her cup and sipped it.

Ranger just nodded. "Hector will take you home." He studied her for a minute. "You know you can't tell anyone that you've seen me, Ricardo Manoso is dead." She looked at him and rolled her eyes. He just smiled at her and shook his head. "You know I had to say that." She snorted in response.

"How about the guys? Do they know you're here?" She watched him over the rim of her cup.

Ranger took the coffee cup out of her hands and put it on the table, then drew her into his arms. "Nobody but you knows that I'm here or even that I'm still alive, Babe. And I'm trusting you to keep it that way."

"But they knew you had a mission, right?" She needed an answer and she wasn't going to let this go.

He was silent for a minute, deciding how much he should tell her. "Yes, they did. But that's all they knew. No one ever talks about their mission, before or after."

She pulled away from him a little to look up into his face as realization struck her. "Bobby and Tank had Lazarus Missions! They were the two who survived!"

He didn't answer her, just pulled her back into his arms and onto his lap. She snuggled into him and nuzzled his neck as he untied the belt on her robe and slipped his hand under the fabric, letting it drift over her bare skin. Eventually his cell phone rang. He kissed her forehead and moved her off his lap so he could get up and answer it. He spoke in Spanish, probably so that even if she could hear, she wouldn't understand, and went into his office, closing the door behind him.

Stephanie retied her robe and picked up her coffee cup, her mind going a million miles a minute. Ranger was sending her home, but if he thought that she was just going to sit there with her hands in her lap, he had another thing coming. She really wanted to figure out was where she was. She couldn't very well ask Ranger or Hector. But just in case she needed to come back here, she needed to know where the hell _here _was.

Yesterday, she had searched Ranger's office but hadn't found anything with an address on it or even a clue to where she was. There was no phonebook, no newspapers, the TV was satellite so no local channels. She had looked out the windows but there weren't any landmarks to give her a hint.

She hadn't even seen the front of the house to be able to recognize it from the street. Hell, she'd only been in this bedroom and the 'Throne Room' and the garage … Oh! Mental head slap. Garages had cars, and cars had license plates and license plates were registered to the owners. She was going to have to take a little trip to the garage, she decided.

Once she got home, she'd see how much she could find out by herself with her trusty search engines. And if _that _didn't uncover what she was looking for, she'd go to Randy Briggs … Hell, Randy could hack into NASA and change the course of the space shuttle if he wanted. Nothing was sacred where he was concerned. Maybe after Ranger's meeting this afternoon she'd have a better idea of what was going on and then she could formulate a real plan to hel…

"Babe!" His voice coming from right in front of her startled her. She had been so lost in thought that she didn't realize he had come back into the room. "I smell something burning!"

She gave him a weak smile, "Sorry, I was a million miles away," and she gave him a little shrug. It would be better if he didn't have any idea what she was thinking.

Ranger bent down and grabbed her hand, pulling her up off the couch. "Come on, let's get you dressed before I jump your bones … again."

She let him tug her into the dressing room. "And that would be bad because … why?" She gave him her version of his wolf grin.

He pulled her into his arms and kissed her. "If I had my way," he said, nuzzling her neck, "I would spend the day in bed making you scream my name over and over again. But the mission comes first and I have work to do, Steph. I'm afraid our fantasy ends right here." He kissed her gently and she clung to him, feeling the tears prickle behind her eyes, but she would not cry, she told herself, she would not cry!

He knew she was fighting tears. "My brave girl," he whispered affectionately. "I love you."

"I love you back," she said, her face buried in his chest, her words muffled by his robe.

The sharp knock on the door broke them apart. "You get dressed," he said to her with a quick kiss and he left the dressing room, closing the door behind him. Steph dressed quickly and went into the bathroom to tame her hair. She came back into the bedroom to find Ranger and Hector engaged in a serious conversation, again, in Spanish.

Steph poured herself another cup of coffee and sat on the couch, looking back and forth at them like watching a tennis match. Ranger turned to her, obviously choosing his words carefully. "Steph, there are people coming here today, dangerous people. They absolutely _cannot_ see you or know that you're here." She watched him as he ran his hands through his long hair. "I want your word that you won't leave this room."

"Excuse me?" She jumped up off the couch. "Does that mean that Hector isn't going to drag me downstairs so you can show off my bare ass to everybody again?" she snapped back at him.

He put up his hand. "Stephanie! Your word or I'll put a guard in here with you!" he threatened.

"Fine!" She straightened her arm and pointed a finger toward the bedroom door. "I give you my word of honor that I will not even open that door! Satisfied?"

He smiled at her and walked toward her with his arms open to hug her. Instead, she shoved the cup and saucer at him and stomped into the bathroom, slamming the door hard enough that it must have echoed through the whole house. Once inside, she leaned back against the door and chewed her lip, thinking that she had just lied to Ranger. Okay, so maybe not, she decided. After all, she really didn't have any intention of leaving the bedroom through that door, so that had been the truth. She really didn't promise not to leave the room, did she? So, she really didn't lie to him at all. That worked!

A soft knock brought her out of her mental gymnastics. "What?"

The door opened and a fully dressed Ranger stepped in. She stood with her head down and her arms folded over her chest. He put his arms around her and rubbed his cheek against hers. "I'm sorry. I just need to know that you'd be safe."

She sighed and looped her arms around his waist. "I'm sorry too, for acting like a child." She wanted to beg him to let her stay, but she knew in her heart that it wouldn't do any good.

"Are we okay?" She nodded against his shoulder. "Good," and he just held her close. "I have to go, Babe. You call Roberts when you're ready for lunch and I'll be back as soon as I can, alright?" He brushed a kiss over her forehead, then thoroughly kissed her mouth.

She let out a big sigh and whispered, "Be safe," as she straightened his tie and brushed imaginary lint from the front of his suit jacket. "Go get 'em, Tiger!" she said with a rueful smile.

He smiled back at her. That phrase was always the last thing he said to her when she went on a distraction job. It was meant to give her courage, to let her know that he absolute faith in her and that he believed that she could do the job. He gave her a final kiss and they walked hand in hand to the bedroom door. She carefully stayed on the bedroom side as he walked through the doorway and gave him a little finger wave, before closing and locking it.

Stephanie gave it ten minutes, then braced a chair under the bedroom door handle. If Ranger came back unexpectedly, it might buy her some time. She stuffed a pen and paper in her pocket, retrieved her automatic and stuck it in the back of her waistband and went into the dressing room. She moved the clothes aside and listened at the panel, but everything was silent, so she cautiously slid the door open and stuck her head out to take a look.

The only thing she could hear was her own heart hammering in her chest and her pulse pounding in her ears. Now or never, she decided. She took off her shoes and stepped out onto the stairway, turning back to rearrange the clothes and close the panel. Slowly and noiselessly she slipped down the stairs stopping every few steps to listen.

At the bottom of the stairway, she turned into the short hall and headed for the garage. Everything seemed quiet and Steph held her breath as she knelt down to slide the panel open an inch and peek out. Five expensive cars were parked in the huge garage, but she couldn't see all the license plates from her hiding place. The garage doors were all closed so she knelt down and slid the panel open. Giving herself a mental 'ready, set, go,' she crawled out and dashed across the garage floor to the farthest car. She was scribbling down the plate numbers on the third vehicle when one of the garage doors started to rise.

She ducked down along side of a BMW, peeking over the hood to watch the car that had just pulled in between where she was hiding and the panel door, blocking her escape route. The driver got out and leaned against the trunk of the car, talking on a cell phone. Steph duck walked around the front of the Beemer and got down on all fours to crawl to the front of the next car. She was just about to stick her head up for a look see, when a deep voice bellowed, "Move and you're dead!" Stephanie froze and held her breath as the heavy footsteps came toward her.

Her eyes were squeezed tight shut when the footsteps walked right past the car she was hiding behind and continued across the garage floor. "Are you out of your mind? Smoking around Ramon's cars? He'll kill you and kick your ass all the way back to Las Vegas and then kill you again! Get the fuck outta here!" Steph's eyes flew open and she watched Diego march the driver out of the garage by the scruff of his neck.

The garage door closed and Stephanie bolted out of her hiding place and flew across the garage. She crawled back through the panel, pushing it closed with shaking hands then collapsed on the floor with her back against the panel as her heart tried to hammer its way out of her chest. If there had been someplace for her to throw up, she would have, and it took her several long minutes before her shaky legs would let her stand, much less walk. Eventually she made her way to the stairway and practically crawled up the steps to the dressing room where she lay curled up on the floor until she finally decided that she wasn't actually going to die from fright.

She recovered and cleaned up, called Roberts for lunch and actually found that she was starving. Well, an adrenaline rush will do that to a girl, she thought, as she finished the last bite of a monster club sandwich that had been big enough to feed a small third world nation.

The sound of car doors slamming brought her to the windows and from the one in the office she could see two men standing by a Mercedes down in the drive. One, the older of the two, she had never seen before, but the other was Yuri Kirenkov, the man who had planned Zoë Thrasher's kidnapping. What the hell was _he_ doing here, Stephanie wondered. Ramon and Che came out to greet them and they all disappeared into the house.

Putting the chair back under the doorknob, Steph took up her position outside the panel on the stairs. She could hear introductions being made and wrote down all the names. After lots of small talk, they finally got down to business and what sounded like negotiations started. They seemed to be talking in code about merchandise being shipped, the number of packages, methods of transportation, but nobody said anything specific about what the merchandise was. It was the most boring stuff she had ever listened to and she was frustrated beyond words.

After being so pumped up over this meeting, all she wanted to do now was cry in frustration. All she had found out was that something from Russia was going to be smuggled around the world along established drug routes, and then brought into this country on a container ship. International drug enforcement agencies would be looking for drugs, not other contraband and their 'merchandise' would get through with no trouble.

Ramon would be making all the arrangements and was going to be paid an astronomical amount of money. The Russians obviously needed his help in this scheme and were more than willing to leave all the dirty work to Ramon and his transportation crew. When they were asked where the merchandise would be delivered to, though, they wouldn't give a straight answer. Alarm bells went off in Steph's head.

Something was very wrong and her spidey sense was tingling. She knew that the Russians couldn't be trusted, hell, even Joe said that. And looked what happened at Alexander's compound when he was supposed to be negotiating with them, they tried to assassinate him. She knew in her gut that the Russians were planning a double cross. More than ever she had to find a way to help Ranger.

It was almost midnight when Ranger came back to the room. He looked tired and stressed when he came in the door, but the minute he looked at her, his features softened and he smiled at her. She crossed the room and came into his arms, holding on to him tightly.

He tipped her face up to his, "It's time," he said and kissed her gently. He felt her tremble in his arms and he tightened his hold on her.

He had told her earlier that she'd have to wear warm, dark clothes and she had them laid out in the dressing room. She slipped out of his arms and went to change, then retrieved her notes from the bathroom and folded them into the toe of her boot, lacing it up tightly. She slipped on the hooded sweatshirt and came out of the dressing room to find Ranger pouring wine.

Ranger held out the wine glass to her, his eyes riveted on hers. There was a sadness in his face that he didn't even attempt to hide. She knew what he was doing; there was something in the wine. They had been down this road before, when he had drugged her to sneak her out of RangeMan after Victor Karvic had put a huge price on her head. It had come as a surprise to her then, this time she expected it.

Her hand trembled as she reached out to take the glass. It was an act of absolute faith and trust and he knew it. Her eyes broke from his and she looked down into the swirling liquid. She drew a shaky breath and blew it out, and then another, gathering her courage. She swallowed hard and, looking back into his eyes, raised the glass and drank it down.

Taking the glass from her shaky fingers, he put it back on the table. He took the single step that covered the distance between them and wrapped her in his arms, his lips pressed against her temple. She held onto him as tightly as she could, burrowing into him, her face in his neck.

"How long?" she whispered.

"A few minutes. You'll just fall asleep and wake up at home." He bent down, lifting her into his arms. He carried her to the bed and lay down with her, holding her close.

He cupped her face in his hand and ran his thumb lightly over her lips. "I love your mouth," and he kissed her as if it would be the last time. She kissed him back with heartbreaking desperation.

She felt the drugs pulling her under and she fought to keep her eyes open, knowing if she closed them he would disappear forever. "I love you. You have to come back. I'll be waiting …"

His face blurred and his voice seemed to come from very far away "I love you, Stephanie." She tried to hold on to him, to keep him with her, but he was slipping away.

"You have to fight for us," she whispered to him.

"Babe …"

The last thing she felt as she lost her battle with consciousness were his warm, soft lips pressed against hers.

RSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRS

It was well after midnight and Joe Morelli was still in his office at the station. Spread out on his desk was all of the evidence that police had in Stephanie's kidnapping. Photos and police sketches, witness statements, CSI reports, FBI reports, a list of Stephanie sightings from all over the country, all lay in front of him. He had gone over everything a hundred times, looking for something, anything, that might give them a lead.

The hot lines rang off the hook. Today alone it seemed that Stephanie had been spotted in fifty different places in ten different states. Each and every lead would be followed up; every person who thought they had seen her would be interviewed, no possibility would be overlooked. But after five days, they still had nothing, no letters, no calls, no ransom demands and that worried him more than anything else.

In all the time she had been missing, Joe had only been home to shower and change and feed Bob. Finally, his mother had offered to take care of the dog so Joe could focus on finding Stephanie. He had thrown some clothes and his toothbrush in a bag and had been living here at the station, afraid that he would miss something if he were asleep at home.

Steph's mother, Ellen, and her sister Valerie had both needed to be sedated when they found out that Stephanie had been kidnapped. Her Grandmother had been in favor of just bitch slapping both women and Joe had to admit that, in light of all the shit they always heaped on Steph, he kind of liked that idea too. Her Dad had turned off the TV and sat in the living room in the dark, alone with his thoughts. Albert had babbled on and on about Steph being dead, who would give the eulogy and what kind of memorial service they should have. Joe had to resist the urge to pull his gun and shoot the shit out the stupid son of a bitch.

He leaned back in his chair and scrubbed his hands over his face and through his hair. He was tired and frustrated and scared that this time, Stephanie wouldn't be coming back. The newspaper and TV stations were still treating this as a headline story and that was a good thing, since it kept her name and face fresh in everybody's mind.

Joe grabbed his coffee mug to get his umpteenth cup, he'd been living on caffeine and not much else since this whole mess started. He blew out a deep breath and thought that he might as well go to the shift meeting to see if there were any new developments.

He had just thrown himself into a chair in the briefing room when his cell phone announced a text message. It was only his informants who texted him, and only when they had a piece of information to give him. With a heavy sigh Joe pulled it out of the holder and flipped it open. 'You will find a Cupcake in Victorian Square Park. Hurry.' Before he realized it, he was out the chair and running down the hall and out into the parking lot.

He threw the back door open and slammed into Eddie Gazarra who was on his way into the building. "Christ Almighty, Morelli! Why the hell don't you watch where you're going?" Eddie snapped.

Every cop on the force had been working extra hours and everybody's nerves were on edge since Stephanie had been kidnapped.

"Eddie, gimme a lift! We'll get there faster in a black and white." Joe grabbed him by the arm and shoved his cell phone in front of his face. Eddie's tired eyes widened as he read the text message and he fished his keys out of his pocket.

The two men ran to Eddie's cruiser and they flew out of the parking lot, lights flashing and siren screaming. They made the trip across town in record time and Eddie screeched to a halt in front of the park entrance, right across the street from Steph's front door. Lights flipped on here and there in the brownstones.

Grabbing Maglites and with their weapons drawn they did a quick sweep of the little park, but it was empty. They ran their flashlight beams over the park into the dark corners and under the trees. On the ground, hidden by the branches of a willow tree, they found what they were looking for. Stephanie, dressed in dark sweats, curled up on a dark blanket. It was impossible to tell if she was dead or alive.

Joe ran over to her and, kneeling, reached out a shaking hand to touch her face. No words could ever describe the relief he felt when he touched her warm skin and she moved under his hand. His fingers found the pulse in her neck beating strong and steady. Eddie crouched down next to him as Steph's eyes fluttered open.

She blinked a few times, then smiled sleepily at them, "Hi Joe," she slurred, "I can't baby-sit tonight Eddie, I'm too tired." She yawned and snuggled down into the blanket.

Eddie put his hand on Joe's shoulder, "Our girl's home!"

The sound of approaching footsteps brought Eddie to his feet, gun in hand, Mag at shoulder height. The halo of light picked up Hal, Bobby, and Tank running across the grass. They stopped short when they saw Steph lying on the ground. Tank's eyes shot to Eddie, who held up a hand, "She's okay, guys. Looks like she's been drugged, though. Let's get her inside."

Hal bent and scooped her up in his burly arms and she snuggled into his shoulder. "Hi Hal," she murmured. He smiled down at her and a tear slid down his cheek. Steph reached up and wiped it away. "Awwwww, Hal, it'll be okay, I promise." She patted his chest and dozed off again.

Hal carried her from the park to her bedroom where he sat down on her bed, still cradling her in his arms.

"I think we should take her to the hospital." Bobby blew out a deep breath, "After all, we don't know what happened to her, if you know what I mean."

Stephanie roused a little, "No! No hospital, I'm fine. I'm not hurt, just tired." She yawned again. "Please, just be quiet and let me sleep," she groused.

Hal put her down on the bed and pulled the covers over her. Stephanie immediately curled up went back to sleep. He leaned back against the headboard, stretched his long legs out in front of him and crossed his arms over his chest. Hal was on guard and he wasn't leaving her side.

Hours later, Hal came out of Stephanie's bedroom with a smile a mile wide plastered over his face. Bobby and Tank were at the kitchen table, coffee mugs in hand. They looked at Hal and then at each other, shaking their heads over Hal's goofy grin. He was the least hardened of the group, and often wore his emotions openly. They both knew that of all the RangeMen, Hal had the hardest time dealing with the reality that Stephanie might not be found, at least not alive. His obvious joy came as no surprise to either of them.

Still, the two men couldn't help but tease him a little. "You better not tell Connie that you spent the night in Bombshell's bed. She'll call her _Family_ and you'll find yourself at the bottom of the river!" Tank said with a laugh.

"Nah!" Bobby added, "Connie strikes me as a do it yourself kinda girl. She'll just pull out that gun of hers and perforate him herself."

Hal just grinned wider if possible. "Wait'll you see her!" he said. "Just wait til you see Steph." His eyes actually looked teary.

Again, Tank and Bobby just looked at each other and laughed. After all, everybody was happy and relieved that Stephanie was okay. With that, her bedroom door opened and Stephanie stumbled out. The two men looked at her in amazement and slowly got up from the table. She looked like she had been on a three day bender. She had pulled off her sweatshirt and her clothes were rumpled, she only wore one sock, her pony tail was lopsided, and her mascara was smudged under her eyes, but the three men stared at her like she was the most beautiful sight in the world.

Bobby clapped Tank on the shoulder and Tank blew out a deep breath. The two most hardened and seasoned of the RangeMen were actually shaken. They grinned at each other, then turned back to look at Steph, not at her face, but at the perfect black and white pearl that hung from the heavy gold chain she wore around her neck. There was only one person who could have given it to her, and it could only mean one thing...

Ranger was alive.

Ranger and Stephanie were friends and lovers and partners.

They had been given one day, twenty hours, and forty-two minutes.

Was their time together over?

_**TBC … **_

_**A/N: Steph is home safe and sound. Should she be angry with Tank and Bobby and Hal? Or should she forgive them and make them help her help Ranger? Please let me know what you think!**_

_**Thank you to everyone who read and reviewed. Ranger has been reading the reviews to Stephanie while they're in bed. They both love to hear how hot you think they are! LOL!**_


	31. Monkey In The Middle!

_**Disclaimer: Everyone belongs to Janet Evanovich except the ones that are mine, and I'm just playing.**_

_**Warnings: Slight Sappiness, Language, and All 12 books.**_

_**A/N: Special thanks to my Dream Team: Super Karen my fabulous Editor, Luisa, Brain Stormer and Translator Extraordinario, and Lindsay my Voice of Reason, Lisa for making me laugh, and all the BC Babes for support, friendship, suggestions, hand holding, cheer leading and general ass kicking. I love you all!**_

_**Thank you to all of you wonderful readers and reviewers! I've tried to answer each and every review that you've sent. You've all made my Inner Review Slut very happy!**_

_**Don't forget to read Kashy's fabulous 'Bad Medicine' and 'Keep The Faith' … you don't want to miss them! Read and review them please, you'll be glad you did! **_

_**The Name Of The Game!**_

_**By Stayce (XJerseyGirl)**_

_**Chapter 31: Monkey In The Middle!**_

Stephanie stumbled out of her bedroom with one eye cracked open. Tank, Bobby, and Hal were standing there, looking at her, grinning like fools and she grunted as she shuffled past them. She followed her nose into the kitchen and straight to the coffee pot, but try as she might, she just couldn't seem to pick up her coffee mug… she swore it kept moving on her every time she tried to grab it. Finally, Hal took her by the shoulders and turned her around, marched her over to the table, and sat her in a chair.

She felt like crap! Those little bastards with the jackhammers were trying to dig their way out of her skull, her tongue was stuck to the roof of her mouth, and while it seemed that it was physically impossible to open both of her eyes at the same time, there were at least three of everything that she _could_ see.

She swore to herself right then and there that she would never, ever, allow anyone to drug her ever again. Ranger! The next time she saw Ranger, she was going to kick his ass! Ranger, she thought with a sigh, she really didn't want to kick his ass. What she really wanted to do was …

She leaned her elbow on the table and rested her cheek in her hand, just sitting there with her eyes shut and a little smile on her face. By the time Hal put her coffee down in front of her, her elbow had slowly slid across the table and her head rested on the place mat, a slight snore escaping her. The three men chuckled and Bobby lifted her out of the chair, carrying her back to her bed.

She stirred slightly, "I need to get up," she muttered as he laid her down, "I've got a lot of stuff to do."

"Why don't you sleep until I come back from McDonald's, okay Slugger?" he said affectionately.

"You're a god, Bobby," she said with a sigh, and dozed right off again.

Bobby pulled the covers back over her and hesitated for a second. Very gently, so as not to wake her, he pulled out the neck of her t-shirt and slipped the pearl underneath. Even in the dim light he could plainly see that she wore another kind of necklace, one made up of hickies and whisker burns. _Good_, he thought, _a couple of days with Ranger was just what she needed. Hopefully they won't be the last days those two spent together._

He smiled down at her and brushed her hair out of her face. He thought he'd wait and hour or so and then go to McDonald's for her Coke and French fries. The TPD and the Feds would be there later on to question her about the kidnapping, followed by her friends and family, newspaper and TV reporters and God only knew who else. The house was going to be a zoo and he knew Stephanie would have to be on her toes. She needed all the sleep she could get to have the strength to handle this day.

As he turned to leave the bedroom, Bobby accidentally kicked Steph's boot halfway across the room. He bent to retrieve it, picking it up by the toe, and a folded paper fluttered out of the boot, landing on the carpet in front of him. Shooting a look back at Steph to make sure she was still asleep, he picked up the paper and opened it, moving closer to the light coming in the doorway to read it. "Holy Shit!" he muttered under his breath, and with another quick glance at Steph, he hurried downstairs to the kitchen.

"Hey guys," he said, "take a look at this! I think our Miss Plum has been snooping," he held the paper out for Tank and Hal to see.

A smile spread over Tank's face. "It's Steph's handwriting alright! That little girl isn't gonna let him go without a fight, is she? Good for her!" The smile faded from his face as he looked over the list of names, "I recognize a couple of these names, Mob guys from Vegas. Shit! Mikhalov and Borkin? They're red Mafia! And God Almighty! Ramon Escobar? He's one sick motherfucker! I thought he was in prison … What the hell is she getting herself involved in?"

"Word on the street is that Escobar was moving his base of operations from Vegas to the East Coast to keep an eye on the Russian connection," Bobby added. "They're going to be doing a lot of business together and he doesn't trust them. I don't think I like where this is going!" He blew out a worried breath.

Hal looked from Tank to Bobby. "Guys, you know that she's not gonna just sit around, especially if she thinks she can help Ranger. We can't let her get involved with any of these guys. I don't even want to _think_ about what could happen to her," his voice was laced with genuine concern.

Bobby nodded, "Hal's right, we can't let her run off on her own … Hell! We shouldn't let her get involved with this at all! These aren't just tough skips … she's way out of her league."

"Do you really think we can stop her? Short of locking her up, I mean?" Tank snapped. He looked down at the paper again and ran a hand over his bald head, "Tell you what, I'm gonna go back to RangeMan and get the wheels turning. Let's see what I can find out and maybe we can connect the dots, you know, figure out what this has to do with Ranger."

Hal took the paper and scanned it into the computer, emailing it to their RangeMan accounts, and then deleted all records to cover his tracks. While he was out of the room, Tank turned to Bobby, "Nobody has ever interfered in a Lazarus Mission, every man had been out there on his own. Maybe it's time we changed the rules." Bobby gave a thoughtful nod of agreement.

When Hal came back, Bobby quickly folded the original and put it back in Steph's boot and took it back to her bedroom. He made sure that the other boot wasn't hiding anything interesting, then put them back by the bed. He checked the pockets in the hoodie she had been wearing, but there was no way he could check the rest of the clothes she had on without waking her, so he decided to pass on that idea.

By the time Bobby got back to the kitchen, Tank was sitting at the table, busy on his laptop. Bobby stood behind him and watched over his shoulder as he hacked into the DMV to trace the license plate numbers on Steph's list.

"Where's Hal?" Bobby looked around.

"He went to McDonald's. She's gotta get up. The Feds are gonna be here soon," Tank said, looking at his laptop. "Bingo! The vehicles are all originally registered to Luxury Transport Inc, a leasing company out of North Jersey. Let's see where it goes from there."

A few minutes later, Tank blew out a disgusted breath. "Son of a bitch! The vehicles are all leased to the same corporation. You ready for the name? Lazarus International!"

Bobby just shook his head. "Jesus Christ! Fuckin' Feds! They don't even have any imagination!"

_**RSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRS**_

Thirty minutes later, Hal sat on the edge of Stephanie's bed and slowly waved the French fries under her nose. Without opening her eyes, she just smiled and an "Ummmmmm!" slipped out. She opened her mouth and a laughing Hal put a fry in. "Oh My God, that tastes sooooo good," she moaned as the salt burst on her tongue. She rolled over on her back and with Hal's help, sat up, leaning against the headboard.

Hal peeled the wrapper off the straw and poked it through the hole in the lid, holding the drink out to her. She took a long slurp and then another and she could practically feel the sugar and caffeine race through her veins to kick start her fuzzy brain. She polished off the fries and licked the salt off her fingers, then emptied the Coke and sat back. It took a few minutes, but she was finally able to pry her eyes open and look at Hal.

"Hi Hal! How are you?" She smiled at him.

"Hey Steph," Hal said softly and drew her into a hug. "I'm great now that you're home."

"I'm really sorry that everybody was worried." She laid her head on his shoulder.

"So you okay? You didn't get hurt or … anything, did you?" He asked carefully.

"No, I'm just a little bumped and bruised and tired. Nothing that twelve more hours of sleep wouldn't cure." She punctuated her words with a huge yawn.

"Listen, the Feds and the cops are gonna be here soon. They're gonna have a million questions, so if it gets to be too much, you just signal me and I'll get rid of them, okay?"

She nodded against his shoulder and whispered, "Thanks Hal. All I really want to do is sleep. I don't know what they gave me, but I'm still seeing double."

"You sure you're okay? Maybe we should have you checked out by a doctor?"

"Nah. I just feel like I'm hung over, the Cure helped a lot, Hal," she said pulling away from him. She scrubbed her hands over her face and curled her lip at the mascara she had all over her fingers. "I gotta get myself cleaned up," and she climbed out of bed to head into the bathroom. She swayed as she stood up and Hal reached out to steady her, concern written all over his face. "Better put on a big pot of coffee, it's gonna be a long day, and I'm gonna need all the caffeine I can get," she told him with a weak smile.

As soon as Hal had closed the bedroom door behind him, Stephanie grabbed her boot and stuck her hand into the toe. With a sigh of relief, she pulled the folded paper out and dropped the boot back onto the floor. She quickly tried to find a safe place to keep it. She decided against her gun safe since Hal had the combination and he had been known to snoop.

She actually smiled to herself when she finally decided on her lingerie drawer; it was the one place in the house that was absolutely safe from Hal. She took the folded paper and tucked it inside a pair of silk panties, putting the matching bra on top and burying them both in the bottom of the drawer.

Stephanie shuffled into the bathroom, stripping her clothes off on the way. She turned on the shower and while she waited for the water to warm up, she grabbed her toothbrush. It felt like a garbage truck had driven through her mouth, and she hated that, so she loaded up an extra stripe of toothpaste and went to work. She leaned against the counter top, propped on one hand, eyes shut, scrubbing away, hoping that the pepperminty taste would help wake her up.

She had to figure out what story she was going to tell the Feds and the cops. It was probably best to stick as close to the truth as she could. After all, she was a lousy liar and she knew it. Really, though, she wasn't worried about the Feds, it was Joe she had to convince. He could always tell when she was fibbing and this time, it wasn't going to be fibs. These would be great, big, fat whoppers and she was pretty sure that when Joe looked at her, he'd see a neon sign flashing 'Liar' appear over her head.

When she leaned down to spit in the sink, the sound of a sharp clink made her freeze and her eyes fly open. She had heard that sound every morning for almost a year … from their last day on Roratoa, until the day she had run out of RangeMan, the pearl that she had worn around her neck had clinked against the edge of the sink when she bent to rinse her mouth.

She bolted upright and her eyes shot to the mirror. She stared at her reflection for a long minute, trying to wrap her foggy brain around what her eyes were seeing. There, against the pale skin between her breasts, lay their pearl. Tears pricked at her eyes and made their way down her cheeks as she raised a shaking hand to touch it.

Stephanie flashed back to the afternoon on the beach at Roratoa when Ranger had slipped the necklace around her neck. He had told her that the chain had no clasp, no beginning and no end, that it meant forever. Despite her tears, she smiled as she looked at the perfect orb she held in her palm. She thought she had dreamed it! Last night, as she was loosing her battle with the drugs in the wine, she thought she had heard Ranger's voice telling her that this was the only ring he'd ever need … she curled her fingers around the pearl and brought it to her lips. It hadn't been a dream after all.

_**RSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRS**_

Stephanie was already curled up on the couch, wearing three coats of mascara for courage and an afghan covering her legs for effect, when Bobby ushered the FBI agents into the room. Hal was standing guard next to Steph, feet spread, his arms crossed over his chest, his opinion of feebs plainly written on his face. Bobby took up his position on the other side of the room and they both made it clear that neither of them was going anyplace. Tank had gone back to RangeMan to check in, and to use all of the security company's high tech systems to research the information that Stephanie had sniffed out.

Flashing their ID and introducing themselves as Agents Jacobs and Clancy from the Philadelphia Office, the two men strolled into the living room and took the chairs across the coffee table from the couch. Jacobs took a small recorder from his pocket and when he asked Steph if it was alright to record the interview, she nodded her consent.

Clancy started. "Miss Plum, we're glad to see you alive and presumably well. Please start at the beginning, and take us through the entire incident, step by step." He got to the point right away.

An hour and a half later, after she had told them the same story three times, answered all their questions, and essentially telling them nothing, Steph was wearing out. No, she couldn't identify the men who kidnapped her and no, she hadn't seen anyone, she had been blindfolded. No, she didn't know where she had been held, all she could see out the window was trees. Yes, she was given food and water and no, she hadn't been hurt. And NO! She had no idea _why_ she had been kidnapped.

Steph was too tired to be pissed that they were asking her the same questions over and over again, rewording them as if they were hoping that they could trip her up. They tag teamed her, firing questions so fast that she couldn't get the answer to one out before they threw another in her lap. They played good cop, bad cop, with Jacobs acting calm and concerned, and Clancy acting like an intimidating jackass.

Her spidey-sense started to tingle when she realized the Feebs were fishing for something, for some information they thought she had, but she didn't know what. Clancy told her that she shouldn't leave town without notifying them, and that she needed to be available to the FBI to answer questions until further notice. The 'or else' was implied.

When it got to the point where she opened her mouth but didn't have a chance to say a word, a huge tear slipped down her cheek. Hal stepped in and told the agents that it was time for them to leave. He grabbed each by the arm, hauled them out of their chairs and escorted them from the living room to the front door and out onto the steps in fifteen seconds flat. By the time he got back to the living room, Steph was fast asleep on the couch. Hal pulled the blanket up over her and let her sleep.

A little while later the doorbell woke her and she opened her eyes to the next contingent. The TPD, showed up in the form of Robin Russell and Eddie Gazarra. They greeted her with hugs and kisses and even brought her Boston Crèmes from Dunkin' Donuts and Steph breathed a sigh of relief.

They had come to ask her to stop by the station, at her convenience, to make a statement for the record. No questioning this time, except the kind that friends ask, 'Are you okay? Do you need anything?' And these guys _were_ her friends. As she relaxed, the knot in her stomach gradually disappeared. Even Hal and Bobby stood down from their guard dog status and Hal broke out coffee and cake for everybody. They all teased him about what a good Burg housewife he'd make and asked him if he did windows too. They left promising to get in touch soon.

The Plum Family Circus arrived next. Frank Plum walked over to Steph with his arms outstretched and wrapped his daughter in a bear hug. For a family that didn't believe in public displays of affections, this amounted to a spectacle. Food was the language of love for the Plums, and they came laden down with love. They brought enough roast chicken with mashed potatoes and gravy, veggies, fresh rolls, and pineapple upside down cake with extra whipped cream to feed a not so small army. Stephanie guessed that her mother knew that the Merry Men would be there and had cooked accordingly.

Her mother took over the kitchen, issuing orders like a drill sergeant, her father sat in front of the TV and turned up the volume, and Grandma Mazur eyed the Merry Men, making them decidedly nervous. Mary Alice whinnied and galloped, Lisa cried, Valerie fussed, Albert sweated and Angie sat next to Steph explaining the Stockholm Syndrome where kidnap victims start to sympathize and identify with their captors. Stephanie started looking around for an escape route.

As the dining room table was being set, Joe arrived and enveloped Steph in a hug and kissed her lightly on the lips. "Oh God, Cupcake! You really had me scared this time!" He held her tightly and rested his chin on the top of her head.

"It wasn't my fault!" Stephanie whined, and they both laughed in relief.

Steph's mother stood in the doorway and beamed at them. Grandma Mazur narrowed her eyes at Ellen and as she walked past, slapped the back of her head, "Mother!" Ellen said in shock as she raised her hand to rub her head.

"Sorry Ellen, I thought you had a fly on the back of your head." She winked and grinned at Steph and Joe as she brought the rolls to the table. Joe turned his head and Stephanie had to clap a hand over her mouth to hide her laugh.

The bell rang and Hal played doorman, ushering Alexander and Niko Ramos into the room. Alexander kissed her, then handed her a huge box of her favorite Greek pastries and cookies. Niko looked at her eyes and checked her reflexes and announced that she was physically fine, but needed TLC for the next 48 hours and offered his services.

Jean Ellen, Dean and Scott showed up, Christie and Haver, then Mary Lou and Connie and Lula, who was disappointed that Tank had gone back to RangeMan. Dougie and Mooner came bearing a mountain of brownies that Joe immediately confiscated, Carl and Big Dog, and most of RangeMan stopped by … the stream of friends that came in and out was endless and Steph was passed from one pair of arms to the next to be hugged, kissed, and spun around until she was dizzy.

TV crews and newspaper reporters had started to gather outside the house, jockeying for position to get photos and sound bites, taking pictures of anyone who came to the house, sticking microphones into everybody's faces, desperate for anything that they could plaster on the front page or TV screen. The only person willing to talk to them was Grandma Mazur, who kept trying to slip out the front door so she could star on the eleven o'clock news.

A couple of the pushier reporters had tried to force their way into the house, but once Cal came to stand guard outside, none of them even dared to cross the street. Steph peeked at them through the curtains, growling when she saw that front row center was the little rat bastard who had gifted her with the nickname, 'Bombshell Bounty Hunter'! He still stalked her, hoping for an opportunity to catch her in an embarrassing situation. She'd like to embarrass him, alright, with a baseball bat! The thought made her smile in anticipation. "Someday, you little ferret," she muttered under her breath.

Her lawyer, Haver, had released a statement to the media, hoping that would satisfy them and they would all leave, but no such luck. The vultures were camping out and not giving up until they got their hands on Stephanie herself. Even though Niko told her she couldn't drive or go out for two days, she hated being a prisoner in her own home, even if it was only until the next candidate for fifteen minutes of fame came along.

Steph sighed as she turned away from the window. With guard dogs inside the house and vultures outside, she had no hope of escaping prying eyes. There was absolutely no privacy here in the house, so no chance to do the research she needed to do. She wanted to sneak out to talk to Randy Briggs. She had decided that getting him to do all the computer work was the only way to do it secretly. She blew out a sigh of frustration as she turned and bumped into Joe.

"You okay, Cupcake?" Joe pulled her into a gentle hug.

She laid her head onto his shoulder, "Yeah, I'm just tired and I have a headache."

"You didn't eat anything, did you?" He tipped her chin and looked down into her blue eyes.

"Hal brought me 'The Cure' this morning, so I'm good." Her stomach chose that minute to emit a grumble.

Joe smiled at her and sat her in an overstuffed chair and pushed the oversized ottoman under her feet. He grabbed the afghan and covered her legs. "Don't move," he ordered, pointing a finger at her, "I'll be right back." She stuck her tongue out at him and gave him a snappy salute.

"Smartass!" he said affectionately.

He came back after a minute and handed her a plate of food and a bottle of water. He sat on the ottoman and watched her eat, not satisfied until she had cleaned her plate. She took the last bite and leaned back in the chair with a contented smile and a huge yawn. Joe took the empty plate out of her hands and put it on the coffee table, then picked her up in his arms and announced to the few visitors who were left, "Okay folks, the Guest of Honor is fading fast. Say good-bye, Steph." She gave a little finger wave and called, "Good-bye Steph!" as he carried her up to her bedroom and deposited her on the bed. He dropped a kiss on her forehead and started to leave.

"Joe?" He stopped halfway across the room and turned.

She patted the bed next to her and he came to sit on the edge of the bed next to her. "Got a minute? I'm trying to fill in the blank spots."

He tucked a curl behind her ear, "What can I do to help?"

"Tank told me that you found me? How did you know where I was?" Joe took out his cell phone and pulled up the text message that he had received, then turned it for her to read.

Steph took it out of his hand, reading the message and taking special note of the time it was sent. She handed the phone back to him. "Thanks Joe. Did you try to trace this? I mean, have you got any idea who sent it or where it came from?"

"All we found out was that it came from a prepaid cell phone. There's no way to tell where the call came from or who made it." Steph blew out a deep breath of relief that Joe mistook for frustration. He threaded his fingers through hers and held her hand. "I'm sorry, Steph. There just wasn't any way to get that information. The only clue is that whoever sent it knows that I call you 'Cupcake' and that covers about half the population of the state of New Jersey."

"Thanks Joe." Her eyelids were so heavy that she just couldn't keep them open any more and Joe watched as they drifted shut.

He tucked the blanket around her, "There's a Ranger's game Friday night, you up for pizza and beer?"

Without opening her eyes, she smiled and nodded, "'Kay," and she gave another huge yawn. He kissed her hand, then tucked it under the blanket and quietly left the room.

Steph waited a good five minutes to make sure that Joe didn't come back into the room, and did a little mental math while she waited. She had swallowed the drugged wine at about 12:15am and Joe had received the text message at 2am. She gave herself 15 minutes to fall asleep, another couple here, another couple there, another 15 to be stashed in the park … all in all, that left about an hour of travel time.

She hopped out of bed, grabbed her laptop, and sitting back down on the bed, booted it up. She was sure from the trees and rolling landscape that she could see from the windows, that Ramon's house was north of Trenton. She started google-ing distances and travel times to different places around the state. Within an hour she had zeroed in on the area where she thought the house was. If she had to walk every street, road, and gravel path in the state, come hell or high water, she was going to find Ranger, and that's all there was to it!

_**RSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRS**_

It was almost midnight when Tank parked in front of Stephanie's house, the files of research under his arm. As soon as he put the Hummer in park, the doors of the vans and cars that the reporters were sitting in flew open and a small mob started across the street at him, cameras and microphones at the ready.

He spun around toward them and stretched out his arm and pointed his finger at the group. "Stay!" He bellowed and every single one of them froze. As he turned toward the house, the little weasel, Steph's tormenter, stepped forward and raised his camera. Tank stopped and slowly turned to look at him, narrowing his eyes. He curled his lip into a snarl and a deep growl rumbled from his chest. The little man whimpered and disappeared into the pack which immediately scattered.

Tank took the steps three at a time and slipped through the front door that Bobby held open for him. "Where's Steph?"

Bobby jerked his head toward the stairs, "In bed. I checked on her a few minutes ago. She's been zonked out since this afternoon."

"Okay, let's go into the dining room so I can spread this stuff out."

"I started with the names that I recognized," he said as he passed out the files, "the guys from Vegas. Apparently they've been part of Escobar's organization for years. These guys call themselves The Transportation Crew. They specialize in moving merchandise and literally have a world-wide network of ships, planes, trucks, you name it. They can pick up and deliver Starbuck's to the South Pole and get it there hot!"

"Okay, so it's a delivery service. Why can't the Feds shut 'em down?" Hal asked.

Tank blew out a frustrated sigh and picked up one of the reports. "From the outside it looks legitimate. Not just the Transportation Crew, but Escobar's whole operation is handled like a series of small businesses under one parent company. They pay taxes, employ union labor, make charitable donations, support Little League teams, have company picnics. Hell, they even gave the Las Vegas Police Department a $10,000 donation to buy bullet proof vests for their police dogs."

Hal leaned back in his chair with his arms folded over his chest. "So you're saying that they're smarter than the Feds."

Bobby snorted derisively. "Okay, so if he's been that careful up to now, why would Escobar want to get involved with the Red Mafia? They have a reputation for being big mouthed drunks, penny-ante street thugs. They act first, think later. And they have a reputation for double crossing. Look what they tried to do to Ramos! In the middle of 'negotiations' with him, they try to off his whole family. Escobar is too smart to get involved with them."

"Yeah, that's the million dollar question." Tank leaned his elbows on the table and rubbed his tired eyes. He had been reading this stuff for hours and just couldn't come to any conclusion that made sense.

Hal was looking through the file on Escobar. Tank had printed off a series of Escobar's mug shots, newspaper photos, candids, and surveillance photos from his FBI and Homeland Security files. One photo in particular caught his attention. Anybody in the room could see the light bulb go on over Hal's head and he jumped up and rooted through a basket of magazines that Steph kept to read 'someday.' He pulled out an old Trenton Monthly and flipped through it, found the page he wanted and picked up a pen and started scribbling on the magazine.

He sat back and viewed his handiwork, "Son of a bitch!" he muttered, "Look at that!" He shoved the magazine and the photo across the table to Bobby and Tank.

Hal had added a goatee, a scar and an eye patch to the magazine's picture of Ranger. "Fuck!" Tank burst out, "how did I not see that? The Feds are using him in as a ringer!"

"That's his mission, to work some kind of a deal with the Russians!" Bobby tossed the pictures on the table. "They couldn't use Escobar himself, he's not that stupid! He wouldn't work for the Feds _or _deal with the Russians."

"So they get Ranger, who has no choice and no say in the matter. They set him up in a no win situation. If Escobar's men don't find him out and kill him, the Russians will try a double-cross. Either way, he's dead! Motherfuckers!" Hal brought his fist down on the table.

Tank was out of his chair, pacing the room. "Okay, so now the question is, do we get involved? It's a suicide mission and we have as much to lose as Ranger does." He looked from Bobby to Hal.

A determined Hal stared Tank square in the eyes, "Try and stop me!"

"Ditto!" Bobby added, "Look, we've always had each other's backs. Sometimes you just gotta do what you gotta do. I don't see it as a choice."

Tank nodded, "Okay then, only one decision left. What do we do about Stephanie?"

She stood in the darkened living room, listening to them talk about Escobar and the Russians and Ranger and the Mission. Tank already had all the in depth research reports, all the names and places on her list. They had put their heads together and had figured out Ranger's mission, decided they would get involved, decided they would risk their lives to save his. Her heart had swelled and tears had slid down her face when she realized what they were willing to give up for their friend, their brother.

But now they were talking about how they could get rid of her, how they could lock her up someplace, how they could keep her out from under foot! How could they think she wasn't willing to take on the same risks that they were, that she didn't have the same loyalty to him, that she loved him any less than they did? Bastards!

She could feel her blood start to boil and taste the bile that burned her throat. She was so furious that she was shaking. Her _'friends'_ were at it again. Well, not this time, oh hell no, not again! She pulled the pearl out from under her sweater. It was her badge of courage; it was what gave her the right to be part of this!

Her hands curled into fists, she stepped into the dining room. It took a few long seconds for them to realize that she was there and they swung around to face her.

"Hey Bomber!" Tank recovered from the surprise first, and plastered a fake smile on his face.

She didn't answer him, just looked from on to the other. "Get out of my house," she hissed at them. "Now!"

Ranger and Stephanie were friends and lovers and partners.

And they're both alive …

One day, two hours, sixteen minutes into her plan.

_**TBC …**_

_**A/N: I'm sorry that the chapter is both late and short. A family illness has taken up a lot of my time and energy. I'll do my best to post every week, but it will depend on how serious the situation is. I'll keep you posted.**_

_**Thank you to each and every reader who leaves a review! You have no idea how much Ranger and Steph enjoy them … she bribes him to read them to her … you can imagine what the bribe is …LOL!**_

_**So, waddaya think? Will the MM leave, will they let her get involved, or will she go off on her own?**_

_**I'll respond to every review, so if you have a question, feel free to ask! Thanks again for all your wonderful reviews!!! You Rock!**_


	32. Red Rover!

_**Disclaimer: Everyone belongs to Janet Evanovich except the ones that are mine, and I'm just playing.**_

_**Warnings: Angst, Slight Sappiness, Language, and All 12 books.**_

_**A/N: Special thanks to my Dream Team: Super Karen my fabulous Editor, Luisa, Brain Stormer and Translator Extraordinario, and Lindsay my Voice of Reason, Lisa for making me laugh, and all the BC Babes for support, friendship, suggestions, hand holding, cheer leading and general ass kicking. I love you all!**_

_**Thank you to all of you wonderful readers and reviewers! I've tried to answer each and every review that you've sent. You've all made my Inner Review Slut very happy!**_

_**Don't forget to read Kashy's fabulous 'Bad Medicine' and 'Keep The Faith' … you don't want to miss them! Read and review them please, you'll be glad you did! **_

**_P.S. My editor is on vacation, so she hasn't seen this ... the mistakes are mine, all mine! LOL!_**

_**The Name Of The Game!**_

_**By Stayce (XJerseyGirl)**_

"_Get out of my house," she hissed, "Now!"_

_**Chapter 32: Red Rover!**_

The three men spun toward Stephanie, Tank and Bobby reaching for their weapons. They had been so engrossed in their conversation that she had managed to take them by surprise and the Merry Men had reacted instinctively. They looked at the furious woman standing in front of them. Stephanie was so angry that she was vibrating, her fists clinched. Her face was pale but fire shot from her eyes. None of them had ever seen her this enraged before.

Standing in the dining room, glaring at the three standing in front of her, Stephanie was so filled with pain and anger that she wanted to launch herself across the room at them. These were men who she had counted among her friends, who she had trusted with her life, and who had ultimately betrayed her. And now they were doing it again! As childish as she knew it was, she wanted to hurt them the way they had hurt her.

Her eyes narrowed when she saw her handwritten notes lying on top of the files spread out all over the table. "How the hell did you get that?" she demanded. All she could think was that they had searched her room while she was asleep, yet another betrayal.

No one answered her. Tank wore the patented RangeMan blank face, Bobby had his arms crossed over his chest and stared at the floor, Hal's face was bright red and he looked as guilty as sin.

"I said …" she started, louder this time.

Bobby took a deep breath. "It fell out of your boot, Slugger."

"So you just helped yourself to it?" she snapped.

"Steph, we just came off a couple of really bad days." He raised his eyes to hers. "We didn't know who had you, or where you were, or even if you were alive," Bobby tried explaining. "When I saw this, I didn't know what it was or who wrote it … you, the kidnaper … You were out cold and I didn't think it should wait for you to wake up. I copied it and put the original back in your boot."

"Oh, that's right, you've been worried about me," she sneered, "I keep forgetting. Sucks to be you guys, doesn't it? Worried about me since … gosh, ever since Ranger threw me out. So worried that not one of you could tell me the truth. I'll be forever grateful! Like I said … get out!" She turned on her heel and went into the kitchen.

Between the anger and frustration and hurt, her head was splitting and she was having a hard time thinking straight. She stood there, rubbing her forehead with her fingertips. Advil, she thought, she needed Advil and started hunting through the kitchen cabinets for it.

Hal's voice came from the doorway, "Steph, all we did was get a jump start on gathering intel," he said softly. "If you had been awake, you would have been working on it, right? Wouldn't you have shared it with us?"

She slammed a cabinet door and spun to face him. "Well sure Hal! Just like you guys shared all your information about Ranger with me. Just like you were gonna share all _this_ with me." She gestured toward the dining room table, sarcasm dripping from her words. "I heard your _whole _conversation."

She turned back to her search for the Advil opening and slamming doors and drawers. She snatched it off a cabinet shelf and wrestled with the child-proof cap for a good minute before Hal tried again.

"Listen, Steph. If we pool our information and work together may…"

Stephanie spun around and fired the bottle at Hal, hitting the wall right over his head. The cap flew off and the kitchen was showered with pills that bounced off the counters and skittered across the floor. He ducked and stared at her in surprise.

"Work together?" Her voice broke. "Let me guess! That's what 'We have to decide what to do about Stephanie' means, right?" She drew a ragged breath and turned away from Hal, covering her face with her hands as her anger gave way to wracking sobs.

Tank came into the kitchen and his burly arms wrapped gently around her from behind, pulling her back against his chest. She struggled against him, but he only tightened his grip on her so that she couldn't run away. If they were going to help Ranger they had to work this out. He didn't blame Stephanie for her anger; they had misled her, and had allowed her to believe a mountain of lies. They had all been afraid that the day would come when Steph found out what they had done and hated them for it. It looked like today was that day. But they had given Ranger their word and, like it or not, their word was their bond.

Steph leaned her head back and let the tears flow, crying into the kitchen towel she had grabbed off the counter. Tank rocked her gently while they waited for her to cry herself out and calm down. Finally, she took a deep breath and mopped her eyes, then leaned over and snagged a paper towel to blow her nose. She slumped back against Tank's chest, exhausted, his arms supporting her.

His voice, soft in her ear, whispered, "I know it's hard to understand, Steph, but we're men of our word. The lives we live, the jobs we do … we have to surround ourselves with people we trust to watch our backs. People that we trust to keep their word like we keep ours. I'm sorry Steph. We promised Ranger that we'd do what he asked when the time came. We were trying to give our brother the same peace of mind he gave each of us. I'm not trying to make excuses, Bomber, I'm just trying to give you an explanation."

"If it's any consolation, Slugger," Bobby bent down to look into her face, "when we finally found out what he planned, we didn't agree with what he was doing. Hell, we had some knock down drag out fights over it all. But we had given him our word almost ten years ago, and we couldn't take it back now."

"We tried to convince him that he was wrong and that he should tell you the truth. But he wanted to see for himself that you were gonna be okay. He figured that if you didn't love him anymore, if you hated him, you wouldn't hurt so much when he die…"

"Hal!" Bobby hissed, "Shut up!"

"Oh shit!" Hal groaned as he hung his head.

Steph tipped her head back against Tank's chest and yelled at the ceiling, "You men are so fucking stupid! Why can't you lead with you hearts instead of you heads? Think about feelings for a change! All the lies and the deceptions and the pain, and for what? I found out the truth anyway. So it was all for nothing!" she sighed and ran her hands over her face, swiping away fresh tears. "Bunch of damned fools," she muttered disgustedly.

Tank actually sounded apologetic. "I guess we're just not wired that way, Bomber. At least not this group. We're trained to be problem solvers, we do what we know how to do."

"Yeah," Hal added, "and that brings us back to that conversation you overheard." He flushed when she shot him a look.

Stephanie stepped away from Tank and leaned against the kitchen counter, absently picking up the Advil that had landed there. Tank retrieved the bottle from the floor and held it out to her. "You said you heard our whole conversation, so you know that we pretty much figured out what Ranger's mission is, or at least part of it. I won't lie to you, Steph." He hesitated as she arched an eyebrow at him. "We would have considered every option available to us and the possibility of excluding you would have been one of those options." He watched her bristle and held up his hand in a classic 'stop' move. 'But we aren't stupid either; we know full well that you have a lot more information than what you wrote on that piece of paper. If we're gonna try to help Ranger, we need to know what _you_ know. That means we all have to work together."

She looked down at her feet as she let Tank's words sink in. He was right of course; they needed to know what she knew. The trouble was that once they had picked her brain, they might not think that they needed _her_ anymore. It was all a matter of trust at this point, she thought, and her trust supply was running seriously low. Still, she knew that the more people who were involved in this operation, the more ideas and insights they had, the better the chances of success. She might have information, but they had training and equipment and know-how, they were going to need the whole package if they were going to help Ranger.

Bobby cleared his throat. "Slugger, it looks like you have some real trust issues here and we can't blame you. But we're gonna have to work together, to trust each other on this job, so what can we do to help repair that damage?"

She thought for a minute and then looked at the three men. "I want you to give me your word, the same as you gave Ranger. I want to be included in everything and I want the truth, from now on. No matter how bad it might be, I want your word that you'll always tell me the truth."

One after another they held out their hands for her to shake. "Done, Bomber." "Always, Steph." "I swear Slugger."

She took a deep breath and blew it out slowly. As much as she didn't want to admit it, she didn't have any choice in the matter. Even without their promises, she would have had to trust them with the information she had. _Okay, test time_. _Let's see how willing they are to share_, she thought and looked at the three men, "So what have you got?" She walked over to the table and picked up one of the files.

Bobby gave her a nod and a smile, then sat down at the table, Hal pulled out a chair for her, and Tank took his seat, handing her a folder. "Here Bomber, start with this one. These are the background checks on the names you listed." Hal put the rest of the folders in order for her to read, Bobby pulled his chair over closer to hers and Tank leaned in as she opened the first folder. "This Manny Hernandez has been operating out of Las Vegas for about ten years now and he's been know to work …" They guys each added anything additional they knew of, gossip, rumor, reputation on each name, and an hour and a half later, Steph was up to speed on just about everything they had.

She leaned back in her chair, suffering from information overload. "So tell me," she said, rubbing her eyes, "How did you know I was with Ranger?"

Hal leaned over and touched the pearl with his index finger, "We didn't. At least not until I saw this around your neck. We knew there was only one person you could have gotten it from. That's how we knew he was alive."

Her hand instinctively went to the necklace and she curled her fingers around it, as if she could draw Ranger's strength from it.

"Were you in on it?" Tank asked. "I mean, was it a set up? Did you know they were going to kidnap you?"

"Oh hell, NO!" Steph almost shouted, surprised by the question. "Do you really think that I'd willingly let anybody stun me?" She launched into the story and told them about the kidnapping, Ramon's birthday party, being presented to Ramon as a tribute, finding out that Ramon was really Ranger, the meeting with the Russians, and most important, recognizing Andrei Borkin as Yuri Zurvich, the man who had kidnapped Zoë Thrasher… she told them everything that had happened.

_Well, almost everything_, she thought. Naturally she didn't tell the guys about the personal stuff that happened. But she also didn't share her knowledge of the hidden passageway or that she had pretty much figured out where the house was located. _Maybe later_, she thought, _on a need to know basis_. They didn't need to know now and it made her feel better to hold something back, just in case they decided to lock her in the closet and take off on her… for her own good, of course.

After Joe had tucked her into bed last night and everyone thought she was sleeping, she had worked on her laptop for a couple of hours. She had sent all of her information about the possible location of Ramon's house to Randy Briggs. He was running a search on recent sales and construction in the target area she had given him. He promised to send her the results as soon as he got any solid leads that she could check out. She'd just bide her time until he got in touch, then she'd decide if she was going to share with the Merry Men or not.

She was so lost in thought that Bobby had to repeat the question he had asked. "Steph! Ranger was okay the last time you saw him?" Bobby asked again.

She nodded, "He's lost weight, bulk really. His hair is past his shoulders and he has a moustache and goatee. He has tattoos now and those horrible scars on his face and his eye, oh God, his beautiful face…" She closed her eyes for a second, "He looks and sounds so much like Ramon that he fooled Ramon's own men." She toyed with the pearl and her gaze became unfocused as her memories took her back into Ranger's arms. "It's funny, but when I looked at him, I never saw anybody but Ranger," she whispered, tears glittering in her eyes.

Hal reached out and laid his hand on her arm, "That's because you love him, Steph."

She took a deep breath and shook off her melancholy. "He's like a chameleon, he can blend right in. He can turn Ramon on and off like flipping a switch. He's honestly like a different person." She gave a small laugh. "He's always been so genuine, so true to who he is, that it never occurred to me that he could be such a great actor." She couldn't help but wonder if he had ever acted with her and then did a mental head slap. Of course he had! He had done a damned fine job of being the cold, heartless, brutally disinterested lover who had thrown her out of their home … and his life. Academy Award material even. The more she thought about it, the more his acting abilities amazed her.

"I need a break," she said wearily. She got up and stretched, then went into the kitchen for another cup of coffee. Walking into the living room, she parted the curtains and peeked out the bay window at the vans and cars filled with reporters who still lay in wait for her. Even though it was so early that the sun hadn't even risen, yet as soon as they saw the light coming from her window, several leaped out of their vehicles and took up positions covering the front door. Steph sighed and let the curtain fall back into place. It was bad enough that she was kidnapped, not she was being held hostage in her own home.

"I think we all need breakfast," Hal said from the doorway. "You want anything special?" and she smiled at him and shook her head 'no'. She watched the sky grow brighter for a few minutes, then she wandered back into the kitchen where the guys were raiding the fridge. She watched Hal breaking eggs into a bowl, adding cream and vanilla, and putting in thick slices of bread to soak. Bobby was turning sizzling bacon strips in a frying pan, and Tank was making another pot of coffee. Steph automatically got the plates and silverware and began setting the table.

While she waited for the cooks to finish making breakfast, she picked up a file that she hadn't read earlier. Flipping through it, she came across the vehicle registration information from Ramon's cars. She scanned it and her eyes almost rolled out of her head when she read that they were all registered to the Lazarus Corporation. This was the kind of information that Randy needed. If the cars belonged to that Corporation, maybe the house did too. Fucking Feds! She wondered if the assholes though this was funny, some kind of an ironic joke!

She glanced at the guys, still busy in the kitchen and pulled her phone out as she walked into the living room, quickly dialing Randy's number. He picked up on the seventh ring.

"Do you have any idea what the fuck time it is?" he demanded. "Who the hell is this?"

"Randy, it's me. Steph!" she whispered.

"I'm entertaining here! I told you I'd call if I had anything. I didn't call, did I? Must mean I don't have anything for ya, Einstein!"

"Yeah, but I have something for you. It might help in the search." She heard the sounds of him getting out of bed,

"Well! What is it?" he said with a deep sigh.

"All the vehicles at this house are registered to the Lazarus Corporation. I'm thinking that the house might be in the company name, too."

The clicking sounds told her that Randy was working on his keyboard. "Okay," he said, "let's see if anything turns up. Well, well, well … would you look at this! Aren't they efficient little buggers!"

"Who? What?" she whispered excitedly. "Did you find something?"

"Sussex County Appraisal District, Lazarus Corporation holding, single family dwelling, taxed on value of $2,600,000. Must be a nice little dump."

"Randy, please! You're killing me here. What's the address?"

"You have no appreciation for the art in this endeavor. 2707 Lambert Circle, Sussex Crossing. Want me to fax this stuff or email it?"

"Randy, you are a god! I love you! Email it, please. I don't want anyone else to see it yet."

"I been telling you that all along, Sweet Cheeks. And don't go thinking that I'm gonna let you jump my bones. I'm not easy. And I got women lined up around the block who want me! You're gonna have to get at the end of the line! Okay, all this stuff is on its way to you … right … now!" She heard the final click as he sent it off.

In the background, a woman's voice called, "Raaaaaandy, when are you coming back to bed? I'm lonely and need my Snuggle Bunny." Steph choked and started to giggle.

"Laugh and I will cut you off from all further requests, tell anybody you heard that and I'll find out your most embarrassing secret and send it to the National Inquirer! Is that understood?" Randy barked.

"My lips are sealed! Thanks Randy. Sorry I interrupted…" she said to dead air space.

Steph was elated and did a mental happy dance. She felt such relief that she finally had something concrete to go on. If nothing else, she knew where to find Ranger. Now all she had to do was figure out a way to get out of here and take a drive to Sussex Crossing to . find . that . house. Just to make sure.

Hal yelled from the kitchen that breakfast was ready and Steph turned away from the window, almost falling on her ass when she bounced off Tank who stood not two feet behind her. She was pretty sure from the expression on his face that he had heard _her_ whole conversation, and he was not pleased.

"Were you gonna share that with us, or are you keeping secrets already?" he growled.

"What's the matter Tank, don't you trust me?" She said lightly.

"As a matter of fact I don't Bomber. I think you're a danger to yourself and to Ranger," he said matter of factly.

Her eyes widened at his words. "How can you say that? You know I'd never do anything to hurt him!"

"I know that Bomber, but I think that you're so desperate to save him that you'll take off without a plan and without backup. I think that you're likely to take unacceptable risks and get yourself hurt or killed trying to help him. It's those reasons that would have made me exclude you from this operation."

Steph fought back. "And I think that the reason only two of you have come back from these missions is because you're all out there on your own. Once the mission is completed, you're expendable … how many men died after their missions were completed, huh? I did a little research too … or at least Randy did! Almost every man who went on a Lazarus mission died after they had completed it. Why? Because during the mission they had intel and teams and backup and weapons and options, but once the mission was completed, they were abandoned. They died because they had no help, nobody to watch their backs, no way to get home!"

"We all knew that's what we were signing on for. I know it's hard to understand, but none of us had any expectation of survival. If we completed the mission, we were on our own."

"Yeah, well that's not going to happen to Ranger! I won't let it! There's no reason for him not to make it back. He isn't holed up on the other side of the world, he's right here in New Jersey, an hour from home. With you or without you, I'm going to make sure that he isn't out there by himself."

Tank ran his hand over his bald head and looked at Bobby and Hal who had come into the room and were listening in. He cleared his throat and turned back to her. "Okay Bomber, we'll do this together. But we're gonna need some guarantees from you and you're gonna have to use some safe guards. Come on, let's talk over breakfast."

They all went into the kitchen, filled their plates and dug in while Tank described some of the safe guards he would expect her to use.

Bobby slapped her on the back as she choked on a piece of bacon. When she was finally able to draw a breath, she wheezed, "A microchip? Embedded in my HEAD!"

"It's a GPS so that we can't lose you. We've all been on missions where we had them. How about if we all get one? All at the same time! It takes two minutes and doesn't hurt … it's a piece of cake!" Tank said around a mouthful of French toast.

"And it doesn't have to be in your head, it can be inserted anywhere on your body, even in …" Hal turned red when he realized what she was thinking.

Steph let out an, "Ewwwwwwww!" then squeezed her eyes shut, stuck her fingers in her ears and sang, "La-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la! Okay! Okay, under my hair!"

Tank breathed a silent prayer of thanks. He was the only one who knew that Steph already had a microchip implanted, albeit a broken one. Now it could be replaced with a working model and she'd never know the difference. Someday he'd tell her the truth, but he didn't want to freak her out needlessly.

She slitted one eye open when Bobby laughed. Hal just nodded at her, "Think of it as LoJack … now nobody can steal you!" he quipped with a grin.

"Yeah, if you had one last week, we would know where you were held and now we'd know how to find Ranger," Bobby added.

Steph caught Tank's look and cleared her throat. "Well, about that," she said sheepishly. "I'm pretty sure I know where the house is," and she gave them the information that Randy had discovered.

Bobby immediately pulled out his phone and called RangeMan, arranging for surveillance to be set up and photos to be taken of the house, its occupants, vehicles, and anybody who came or went. He leaned back in his chair and blew out a deep breath. "It's times like these that I really wish Hector was still with us. He was the best of the best when it came to this stuff."

Steph squinched up her face, "Um … guys, there's something else I forgot to tell ya …" and she launched into the story of discovering that Hector was Ramon's right hand man, Che.

"So is there anything else you neglected to tell us, Slugger?" Bobby asked as they cleared the table and loaded the dishwasher.

"Not neglected to tell you, more like afraid to tell you," she said as she rinsed a dish. Everybody stopped what they were doing and turned to look at her, and she took a deep breath. "I'm pretty sure I worked out a plan to find out what the mystery merchandise the Russians want Ramon to move really is."

"You gonna share it with us, Bomber?"

She rolled her eyes at him. "Yuri Zurvich is involved with this deal no matter what name he's going by. We know that he's based in Brighton Beach, right? I think we should be too."

"We can't just go tromping around Little Odessa asking questions!" Hal complained, "Been there, done that! They'd recognize us … especially you, Steph. You threw a guy out of a building! You're famous there too! Well, maybe infamous is the right word."

"You're right Hal, you can't go there. But I can! I can go and keep my eyes and ears open. All I need is a cover story and a disguise and I'm good to go. You guys, on the other hand, kinda stand out in a crowd. So it looks like I'm going to be going alone."

Tank chewed her plan over for a few minutes. "I don't see that we have much choice," he said. "The Russians have been very closed mouthed about this deal, everybody knows that something's up, but nobody has any details. No talk on the street, nothing. We need to find out what's going on, and there doesn't seem to be any other option." He looked at Steph, "How do you plan to pull this off?"

"Okay, I've agreed to the microchip implant so you can't lose me. I need a convincing cover story and identity. I'll leave that up to you guys. I figure I can get a job, I'm thinking as a waitress in one of the restaurants Zurvich owns, I wear a wire all the time, walk around, listen in on conversations, and you guys get to find a translator for whatever I pick up. It may not work, but it's better than sitting here doing nothing."

"Yeah, Slugger, but where are you gonna get the kind of disguise that you need? It's not like you can go to a costume shop or anything."

"Danny Terrell will be here in about an hour," she said with a triumphant smile. "I gave him a call and told him I needed help again. He said to count him in."

"Who's Danny Terrell?" Hal wanted to know.

"Danny created the disguises I used to fool Victor Karvic and his hit men after the bastard put out a $250,000 contract on my head. I went around town as Connie Schulmann, a middle-aged FBI Agent and nobody ever caught on that it was me. I even confronted Karvic himself and had him fooled. I'm hoping that Danny can pull another disguise out of his bag of tricks that'll let me walk around Brighton Beach the same way."

"Are you sure you can trust this guy?" Hal sounded a little suspicious.

"We know him from our days in the Rangers," Tank explained. "He came up with a lot of the disguises we used on our covert ops." Tank laughed. "Now he works on all the big horror movies. He specializes in monsters and vampires and ghouls and stuff like that."

"Oh!" Hal deadpanned, "Then he's the perfect guy to work on Steph." They guys hooted good naturedly.

"You brat!" Steph yelped and wound up the kitchen towel, snapping it at Hal's ass, chasing him out of the kitchen and through the living room.

The doorbell rang and Tank checked the security monitor. "You got company Steph," he called and opened the door to Danny and his assistant. They were dressed in workmen's uniforms and came in loaded down with tool boxes and all kinds of gear. The van they had parked at the curb said 'Royal Flush Plumbing' on the side and the reporters and photographers had totally ignored them.

Tank and Bobby and Danny did the guy hug thing, "Hey man, didn't expect _you_ to be in disguise," Bobby said with a laugh.

"Just getting into the spirit of a covert operation!" He looked Steph over, "Hey Gorgeous, whatcha got in mind this time? Playboy Centerfold, old man, Alien, hooker with a heart of gold?" and he pulled her into a bear hug.

Steph giggled, "I think you need to tone that down a few notches, Bucky!" as she hugged him back.

He introduced Hillary, his assistant, a tall, pretty, and well endowed young woman with long cinnamon colored hair. Bobby, instantly smitten, helped her to lug all of their equipment up the stairs while the guys smirked and waggled their eyebrows at each other.

Up in Steph's bathroom Danny flipped open the tool boxes. It looked to Steph like he had brought ever every brand, every color and every style of makeup known to mankind. He had wigs and teeth and contact lenses and blow driers and flat irons and you name it, he had it. It was like a Jersey Girl's fantasy.

Steph sat on the bench in front of the bathroom mirror and told them what kind of disguise she needed. Danny walked around her, studying her from all angles, deciding how he would transform her and then got to work. There would be no wig this time, so he started with her hair. Steph kept whimpering until they finally turned her away from the mirror so she couldn't watch what he was doing to her crowning glory.

A little more than two hours later, with makeup on, contact lenses in, dental fittings, and a new hairdo, Danny turned her back toward the mirror. She looked at herself in amazement while Danny and Hillary stood behind her, admiring their handiwork and high-fiving each other.

"Oh My God! I can't believe it! You guys are magicians!" An awed Stephanie leaned into the mirror and touched her face, turning this way and that before finally breaking down into giggles.

"Okay," Danny said, "time for a wardrobe change! I'll leave the clothes up to you two; I'm going to grab something to eat."

"We'll be down in a few," Hillary called after him.

Bobby was sitting in the living room with Hal, Tank, and Danny when he saw Hillary come down the stairs and head into the kitchen. She gave them all a smile and a wave as she passed by. The guys all snickered when he immediately followed her and lounged against the kitchen counter making small talk while she moved around the kitchen.

When she opened the fridge and bent over to hunt around for something to eat, he couldn't help but focus on her ass. He smiled when he found himself thinking that if it looked that good in a workman's jumpsuit, it would be spectacular in a pair of tight jeans, or tiny little bikini, or better yet, nothing at all. He shook his head to clear the images.

Bobby turned on the charm and she flirted right back. She looked up at him through her long thick eyelashes, her green eyes watching him as he moved in and picked up her left hand, playing with her naked ring finger. He raised her hand to his lips and kissed her palm, then her wrist. "I can't believe that a woman as beautiful as you hasn't been taken," he purred, his voice low and sexy. "I would consider myself a lucky man to take you … anywhere." His eyes drifted shut as he lowered his head to brush his lips over hers.

"Oh Jeez, Bobby! Please don't tell me that you actually _use_ that cheesy line!" Steph's voice said. Bobby's eyes flew open as he dropped her hand and almost jumped away from her. He just stood there and stared at her in shock, doing a perfect imitation of a goldfish.

"Slugger?" He finally choked out.

"Yup!" she said brightly, "It's me! I take it you think the disguise works?"

Bobby groaned and ran his hands over his buzz cut hair, "Ranger'll kill me if he ever finds out what I was thinking when I was watching your ass!"

"Why Bobby Brown, I'm shocked," she giggled. "It's our little secret," Steph whispered with a grin.

The real Hillary and the rest of the guys were hanging all over each other in hysterics. Hillary had filled them in on the set up, and they had all watched from the dining room as the whole scene played out. Steph, and finally Bobby, had joined in laughter, everyone agreeing that Steph's disguise was foolproof.

They all decided right then and there that since her disguise was so successful, they might as well take advantage of it. Steph quickly packed a large duffle bag and was able to walk right out the front door as Hillary, past the reporters and photographers who never even looked at her. She climbed in the van and Danny took her to Bobby's house where she'd wait for the Merry Men to arrange a new identity and background story for her.

The very last thing she did before she left her home was to slip the pearl over her head and press it into Bobby's hand, curling his fingers around it … they had done this before, when she had left her home at RangeMan. This time it didn't hurt any less. "If anything happens to me …" she drew a shuddering breath and whispered, "Tell him I love him." And she was gone.

Thirty-six hours later, 'Sasha Tarasova' had rented a tiny apartment in Brighton Beach and had a job at Maryushka, a restaurant owned by Yuri Zurvich. She had microphones sewn into her clothes, a GPS implanted in her scalp, and a Beretta stuck in the back of her jeans. Now all she had to do was get the information she needed … and not get herself killed.

Ranger and Stephanie were friends and lovers and partners.

And they were both alive …

Four days, seventeen hours, forty-one minutes into her plan.

_**TBC …**_

_**A/N: Again, I'm sorry that the chapter is late and lite. We finally got the results from all the medical tests and our prayers have been answered. We've all breathed a huge sigh of relief... Thank you to all of the wonderful readers who have contacted me with their prayers and well wishes for my family. You all truly bless my life and I'm grateful to each and every one of you. **_

_**Thanks to everyone who read and reviewed Game, I promise to try to get back on track of posting every Tuesday and I promise that I will respond to every review … By the way, Ranger wants to know if he should keep the moustache and goatee? What do you think?**_

_**So, do you think that Steph/Sasha will be recognized in Brighton Beach? Do you think she'll get in trouble, or will she really be able to help Ranger? And poor Steph, she had to part with the pearl … again! Will she ever get to keep it?**_


	33. Guesstures!

_**Disclaimer: Everyone belongs to Janet Evanovich except the ones that are mine, and I'm just playing.**_

_**Warnings: Slight Sappiness, Language, and All 12 books.**_

_**A/N: Special thanks to my Dream Team: Super Karen my fabulous Editor, Luisa, Brain Stormer and Translator Extraordinario, and Lindsay my Voice of Reason, Lisa for making me laugh, and all the BC Babes for support, friendship, suggestions, hand holding, cheer leading and general ass kicking. I love you all!**_

_**Thank you to all of you wonderful readers and reviewers! I've tried to answer each and every review that you've sent. You've all made my Inner Review Slut very happy!**_

_**Don't forget to read Kashy's fabulous 'Bad Medicine' and 'Keep The Faith' … you don't want to miss them! Read and review them please, you'll be glad you did! **_

_**The Name Of The Game!**_

_**By Stayce (XJerseyGirl)**_

_**Chapter 33: Guesstures!**_

It was the middle of the afternoon when 'Sasha Tarasova' got off the bus in Brighton Beach. Now that she was finally here, she had to admit to herself that the plan that had sounded so great when she was standing in her kitchen in Trenton, didn't sound so hot when she was standing on Neptune Street in Brighton Beach. Now she was more than a little nervous about her plan. Ok, she thought, she was a whole lot nervous.

So that nobody could backtrack her to Trenton, she had been on and off buses since 8 o'clock this morning and she was tired, hungry, and cranky. Hal and Bobby had driven her into Philly to catch a bus to Newark. They had hugged and kissed her goodbye, telling her to be careful, repeating instructions for the use of the equipment she was bringing with her, and watched mournfully, as she boarded her bus. She smiled at them as they stood there, waving as the bus pulled out, like worried parents sending their baby off to camp for the first time.

In Newark, she waited two hours and took another bus to The Port Authority Terminal in New York City. There she bought a ticket for Coney Island and from there took a local bus into Brighton Beach. She had cleaned up in the ladies' room, and then had stashed her bags in a locker at the tiny bus station. She was too tired and the bags were too heavy to drag them around with her when she started off on her job search. Much to her surprise, her very first stop netted her the prize.

Stephanie had come into town armed with a list of the businesses owned by Yuri Zurvich, provided through the courtesy of Randy Briggs super snooping, and with the determination to do as much snooping of her own as she could get away with. Yuri was one of the main players in this whole operation, and any information that Steph could pick up might be crucial to the success of Ranger's mission and help bring him home safely. Yuri owned most of the larger restaurants and clubs in Brighton Beach, generally as fronts for the Red Mafyia's long list of illegal activities. Steph knew that if she was going to find out anything, this was the place to find it out!

Brooklyn PD's Organized Crime Unit had provided a lot of useful information to Steph and her team when they had been investigating Zoë Thrasher's kidnapping, and some of it turned out to be absolutely essential to her now. They had provided her with the names and backgrounds of Yuri's mob, as well as surveillance photos of each one of them. Through those same files Steph discovered that Yuri kept his office at Maryushka, his showcase restaurant, and it was where he conducted all his business. That fact alone made finding a job there her personal Holy Grail.

Stephanie strolled down the opposite side of the street from the restaurant and breathed a silent prayer of thanks when she saw the 'Help Wanted' sign in the front window. It didn't matter whether the opening was for a waitress or a dish washer; if she was going to get close to Yuri, she needed that job. Stashed in the bottom of her suitcase was a lovely assortment of listening devices, and she had every intention of putting them to good use. If she had her way, by the time she was done, no one in that restaurant would be able to so much as burp without being heard at RangeMan.

Yuri Zurvich had never seen her in person, so she really shouldn't have any worries the he would recognize her. But she did, and she had to admit that her stomach was in knots at the thought of confronting him. Even the guy she had knocked out of the building when the team rescued Zoë had only seen her in the dark and probably couldn't even describe her. Still, she was glad that she could hide behind her disguise. Somehow or another, it gave her confidence.

She quickly took the clip out of her newly straightened and lightened hair and smoothed down the cinnamon colored bangs that covered her forehead. She had chosen to go with whiskey colored contacts and had gotten a spray on tan to darken her pale skin. Her reflection in a mirror displayed in a furniture store window showed a tall slim woman who looked nothing like Stephanie Plum, and she smiled at the results of Danny Terrell's handiwork. Doing a final check on the Beretta Cheetah that she had tucked in the waistband at the back of her jeans, she cut across the street to Maryushka.

Despite all the distraction jobs she had done, and even though just about every article of clothing that she wore had a microphone or a GPS tracker in it, she was still out here on her own. She suddenly felt very vulnerable and whispered, "Wish me luck," knowing that the guys at RangeMan would hear her. She mentally pep-talked herself, squared her shoulders, took a deep breath for courage, and walked through the door.

She was greeted by a short, rather chubby young woman wearing a Russian peasant costume. Steph groaned inwardly at the thought of having to wear something like that, but she decided that sometimes a girl's gotta do what a girl's gotta do. She asked about the job and was led through the restaurant to a tiny office near the kitchen. The girl knocked on the open door and spoke briefly in Russian to a very large woman with orange hair who was wedged behind the desk in the corner of the office.

She waved her into the room. "You know how to waitress? Hostess?" she asked in heavily accented English.

"Yeah," Steph answered. "I've worked both jobs." _Of course, that was in college_, she thought, _but this woman doesn't need to know that. After all, how hard can it be? How much could possibly have changed?_

The woman grunted. "You speak Russian?" she asked around the cigarette that hung from her lip, looking Steph up and down.

_Shit!_ Steph thought, _that never even crossed my mind._ "No, but I'm a quick learner. Show me something once and I can do it." Her heart fell and she was convinced that she didn't have a prayer of getting any job now.

The woman took the unfiltered cigarette out of her mouth and picked a piece of tobacco off her tongue. "You understand Russian? Even a few words?" the woman studied her.

Steph thought for a minute. "Um … borscht? That's it." Steph said with an apologetic shrug.

"Good!" the woman announced, much to Steph's surprise, and pushed herself away from the desk. "I am Lena, manager of restaurant. We need hostess and server for private parties." Lena stood up and was barely able to squeeze her very wide hips around the desk. Steph had to step out of the office to give the woman room to pass her.

"Come with me!" And she grabbed Steph's arm.

Lena sailed through the dining room and down a short hall with Steph in tow, finally stopping in front of a door that bore a small brass place engraved with one word, 'Private,' on it. The woman rapped sharply on the door and when a voice from inside spoke in Russian, she answered, "Lena," and Steph heard the locks turn. Lena opened the door and shoved Stephanie into the room so hard that she stumbled into the man standing right inside the door. She would have fallen if he hadn't grabbed her by her upper arms and steadied her.

Steph immediately tried to take a step back, but the man held her tightly against his chest. "Oh, I'm so sorry! I must have tripped ove…" Her voice died in her throat when she looked up and realized that she was chest to chest with Yuri Zurvich.

Steph looked into his icy blue eyes and mumbled, "Excuse me." Yuri released her and she stepped back from him, a chill passing through her just being near him. Her heart pounded in her chest as he studied her, afraid that he would know she was a fraud. According to all reports, Yuri wasn't above 'removing' threats to himself and his business in the most unpleasant ways.

Lena and Yuri spoke back and forth in Russian and Yuri turned back to Steph, looking her over. He walked around her slowly, checking her out and she could feel his eyes on her ass. She prayed that he wouldn't lift her jacket to get a better look. If he found her gun, her ass wouldn't save her. He leaned against his desk, arms crossed over his chest and said something to her in Russian, several somethings as a matter of fact, then watched her closely.

Steph didn't know what he had said to her, but Lena's sharp intake of breath told her that it probably wasn't very nice. He was testing her, to see if she understood Russian. She didn't know how to respond, she just hoped that he couldn't see that she was literally shaking in her boots. She looked at him, shaking her head and shrugging. "I'm sorry, I don't understand. I told Lena that I don't speak Russian."

Yuri stared at her silently for so long that she started to fidget. Finally he gave her a tight smile and nod before he looked at Lena and said, "She'll do," then turned and sat behind his desk. Lena took Steph's arm, "You're hired," she said, and tugged her over to the door. They waited until Yuri pressed the button on his desk and the door automatically unlocked. Steph filed that little piece of information away for future reference.

Back in Lena's office Steph filled out the necessary paperwork, got filled in on her job as hostess/server, and was told to show up for training the next morning. Stephanie couldn't believe her luck! Less than an hour after she had gotten off the bus in Brighton Beach, she had a job at Maryushka and she did a mental Happy Dance in celebration.

RSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRS

A week later, 'Sasha' was hurrying to set up the private second floor dining room for a meeting. Yuri had had a couple of others during the week that Stephanie had worked at Maryushka, but always during the day, and 'Sasha' was the only staff member allowed in the room while the men were discussing business. It didn't take a genius to figure out that she was chosen because she didn't speak Russian; after all, that's why she had been hired, and Yuri thought that they could all talk freely in front of her.

She'd had to put up with the off color remarks, propositions, and roving hands of the men that Yuri entertained, and had managed to hold her own against them. The tide had turned when she 'accidentally' dumped a boiling hot glass of Russian tea onto the leg of one of the men who was trying to get his hand up her dress. She fluttered her eyelashes as she apologized, saying that he had startled her, and that she would be similarly startled every single time one of them laid a hand on her. The men had laughed, but they left her alone after that.

It had been worth the trouble, Steph conceded, when she thought about the two dozen or so bugs that she had been able to plant all around the restaurant. The kitchens, the men's room, the private dining rooms, the walk-in refrigerator, the back alley, there was no place that didn't have 'ears,' and RangeMan was listening in on everything that went on inside the building and out.

Boris, from the Miami office, and Pavel from Boston, had come into Trenton to act as translators and they were kept busy with the hours and hours of tapes they had to listen to. They had uncovered lots of info about the Red Mafia's activities that would eventually be passed on to Brooklyn's Organized Crime Unit, and to the Feds, but so far hadn't been able to come up with anything about the mission.

The only place left unbugged was Yuri's private office, and only because Steph had never had an opportunity to be in there by herself. Yuri always kept his office door locked, even when he was inside. One reason was personal security. The other was the contents of the Sub-Zero refrigerator kept in the storage room that was only accessible through Yuri's office. It held all of the big ticket caviar, vodka, and Champagne safely under lock and key so that no one could help themselves.

Yesterday, after the lunch crowd had slowed, Yuri had called her into his office. She sat in front of his desk in one of the guest chairs, her hands folded tightly in her lap to hide her nerves, and waited to find out what he wanted. The thought that she was locked in there with him was making her feel more than a little claustrophobic.

He crossed his legs, his ankle on his knee and leaned back in his desk chair, folding his hands over his stomach. He smiled at her, but his smile was chilling, kind of like she imagined a snake would smile if it could. She gave him a tight smile back.

"Sasha, tomorrow night I have a meeting here," he told her, "I would like you to work that meeting instead of your regular shift. Can you do that?"

She nodded her head, "Sure, no problem."

He nodded in approval. "Good! These businessmen are very, VERY important and I will need you to act as hostess, as if you were the 'lady of the house' so to speak. You will need to make them comfortable, be attentive to their every need. Make sure that their glasses and plates are always filled. No matter what, there will be no 'accidents' of any kind. Do I make myself clear?"

She chewed her lip and looked at him. "Just exactly what do you mean by 'every need'?" she wanted to know.

"I mean that anything they want, you will provide. Anything!" He emphasized the last word, leaving no doubt exactly what he meant.

Steph could feel her blood pressure rising and went from fear to rhino mode in nothing flat. She stood and took the step to Yuri's desk, laying her palms flat on the desktop and leaning forward slightly. "Mr. Zurvich," she said, the anger clear in her voice, "You hired me as a hostess and a waitress. Those are the only two services I am willing to provide. If you want anything else for your guests, I suggest you hire a professional." She turned on her heel and stalked to the door.

"But of course I would pay you," he said, as if that would make a difference.

"You can't afford me!" she shot back at him.

He barked out a laugh as she rattled the handle of the locked door, pulling on it futilely. She spun around to glare at him when he didn't unlock it quickly enough. He pushed the button, muttering under his breath in Russian, and she heard the door open. As soon as the locks tumbled, Steph was out the door, slamming it behind her. She collapsed against the wall and blew out a deep breath, and muttered under her own breath. She came to the conclusion that she talked a good game, but 'brave' was so much easier when she was home, surrounded by Merry Men.

RSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRS

Yuri had taken her suggestion and had hired a couple of professional 'entertainers' who came in looking pretty much like the pros that they were. They eyed the food table greedily, taking in the zakuski, or first course, that had been laid out in the private dining room. A whole pound tin of Beluga caviar at $150 an ounce, Cristal Champagne at $600 a bottle, Rodnik vodka, a steal at $500, meats, cheeses, blini, shrimp and scallops, dried and smoked fish, all kinds of bread, salads, pickled vegetables, every kind of delicacy imaginable had been laid out, and this was only the appetizer course. The entire presentation spoke of wealth and luxury and was designed to impress.

The restaurant was closed for the evening, another sign that these guests were VIPs. Dutiful employee that she was, Steph arranged the traditional mother of pearl plates and utensils that she would use to serve the caviar and checked the room to make sure everything was in order, especially the 'bugs' she had planted.

She was hoping that this whole dog and pony show would pay off and she'd finally get at least a little something in the way of information to make her feel that she wasn't completely wasting her time here. Yuri was in his office with Dimitri Mikalov and from the way Yuri had acted, Steph decided that Mikalov was the big cheese around here. She knew that he had come in from Odessa especially to coordinate some big deal and Steph could only assume that the big deal was Ranger's mission.

A stretch limo glided to a stop in front of the restaurant, and shiver passed through Steph as she peeked out the second story window to try to catch a glimpse of these mysterious guests. When the front passenger door opened and Diego stepped out, Steph's heart turned over in her chest. She watched as Ramon and Che stepped out of the limo and were greeted by Yuri and Dimitri who ushered them to the front door.

Tears pooled in her eyes as she watched Ranger, she missed him so badly she ached with it. She had directed all of her fears and anxiety into trying to help him, not letting herself think about the outcome if her plan failed. As he walked toward the building, he stopped, raising his eyes to look at the window where she stood. He couldn't possibly see her, she was hidden behind the drapes, but her breath caught in her throat as she watched him. After a long second, he dropped his gaze and walked through doorway.

As hostess, she opened the double doors of the dining room and waited in the doorway holding a silver tray of chilled vodka shots. Each guest would get a glass and a kiss on both cheeks. Dimitri was first through the door, followed by Che, Yuri and finally Ramon. Ramon took his glass and downed the liquid, allowing himself to be kissed on both cheeks. He looked 'Sasha' over, but gave no sign of recognition. Steph breathed a sigh of relief, knowing how angry Ranger would be if he found her involved in his mission.

She spent the next hour filling plates with food and glasses with vodka, opening bottles of Champagne for the two pros who slugged it down like water while the men made small talk in English. One of the girls planted herself on Ranger's lap, shoving her very ample boobs into his face as she fed him little bites of food, wiggling occasionally and whispering suggestively in his ear. He acted like he was having a great time, planting kisses on the girl's shoulder and squeezing her ass. Stephanie had to turn away from the sight, a coil of something that felt very much like jealousy tightening in her chest.

He got rid of one bimbo and the other climbed on board. Steph couldn't watch as the girl picked up Ranger's hand and put it on her breast while she leaned forward to kiss his neck and nibble on his ear lobe. She felt tears prick at her eyes as she wondered just how much of this Ranger had done while he played his role as Ramon. Even worse she wondered if he had told her the whole truth when he said that he hadn't been with anyone but her. Was he speaking as Ranger, or Ramon? Oh God! If he tried anything with 'Sasha' she'd kill him.

After bimbo #2 moved on to Dimitri, Sasha refilled Ramon's caviar plate, bringing over a tray of lightly toasted circles of Russian bread and spreading them with sweet cream butter before putting several on Ramon's plate. He picked up one of the toasts and spilled a spoonful of caviar on it and held it out to her. She reached out her hand to take it, but he pulled it back, then held it up to her mouth. She bent and took a small bite, pressing the caviar against the roof of her mouth. The flavor of the roe burst over her tongue and she gave a small moan at the flavor.

Ramon turned to the other men, "I told you that I have women eating out of my hands!" and she flushed as they laughed. He turned back to her, "Now you will taste as delicious as you look, Querida," and he gave her a leering smile.

As she circled the table filling the vodka glasses, Ramon ran his hand up the back of her leg and over her ass, then grabbed her wrist and hauled her down into his lap. She grappled with him and struggled to get away from him. He trapped her on his lap by wrapping his arm around her, pinning her and fisting his hand in her hair. He pulled her head back and kissed her almost brutally while she writhed and kicked futilely. She could hear the laughter that erupted from the rest of the room and it only made her fight harder. Finally, Ramon let her go, slapping her on the ass as she got up.

She stumbled away from him, ignoring the laughter and moved as far away from the table as she could. Catching sight of herself in the mirror, she ran her hands through her hair trying to smooth it. She needed to catch her breath and repair her smeared makeup. When she excused herself, Yuri tossed her his office keys, telling her to bring back another bottle of vodka. Her pulse jumped twenty points in excitement. This was her opportunity to be alone in Yuri's office and to plant the listening devices. She all but skipped out of the dining room.

She was so focused on her own goal that she never realized she had been followed out of the room. She hadn't gotten ten feet down the hall when she felt someone come up from behind her and push her face first into the wall. Hands grabbed her wrists pulling them up and pinning them over her head, one hand holding them in place. His other hand slipped around and covered her mouth, pulling her head to the side and his mouth came down on her neck, kissing, then sucking on the pulse point almost painfully. A knee was shoved between her legs, forcing her dress to ride up as she struggled against her attacker. Out of the corner of her eye she could see Yuri and one of the girls standing in the doorway, watching what was going on before they laughed and closed the dining room door.

As soon as the door clicked closed, he stilled and waited to see if their audience would come out to watch them again. He bent his head and whispered in her ear, "I miss your wild curls, Babe!" and he let her go.

With a sharp cry, she spun around and raised her hand to slap him, but he caught it and placed a kiss first in her palm and then on her wrist. He pushed her back against the wall and kissed her neck, for his benefit as well as for anybody who might be watching. "I thought you were cheating on me!" she hissed as she swatted at him, glancing at the still closed dining room door. "How did you know it was me?" she murmured as she fisted her hand in his hair.

"How did you see through Ramon and know it was me?" he whispered softly as he kissed and nuzzled the side of her face.

She moaned softly and he kneaded her breast through her dress. "I never even saw Ramon, only you." She breathed.

He leaned his forearms against the wall, framing her head as he moved in to kiss her. "I wish my reason was that romantic. I knew you had to be here." He smiled against her mouth. "I had a hard on from the minute I got out of the limo." His mouth came down on hers and he pulled her off the wall, molding her body to his. She could feel the proof of his words against her belly.

He broke the kiss and picked up Yuri's keys from the floor where she had dropped them, throwing her over his shoulder as he stood up. He went back to the dining room door and pushed it open. "Yuri," Ramon called to him, "I'm going to borrow your office for a few minutes. This pretty lady is going to help me … clear my head." Steph screamed and struggled, beat her fists on his back and kicked and wriggled, acting like she was trying to get away from him.

Yuri and Dimitri both laughed. "So that's what you call it now, eh?" Dimitri hollered and held up his glass in a toast.

"Honey," the first bimbo who sat on Ramon's lap yelled to Steph, "lay back and enjoy it! From what I could feel, he's going to make you a very happy woman!" She could hear the whoops of laughter as Ranger carried her down the stairs to Yuri's office.

Once inside, with the door locked behind them, Ranger set her on her feet and took her by the shoulders, turning her to face him. He held his mouth close to her ear and whispered, "What are you doing here?"

"What do you think I'm doing here? I'm trying to get information to help you," she said softly.

"Stephanie, I don't want to know how you figured all this out, but you can't be here by yourself. This is the lion's den. I love you for trying to help me, but tonight you're leaving here and going home."

She shook her head, "I'm not here alone, well maybe technically." She grinned and arched her back, shoving her chest out, pointing into the low scoop neckline of her dress. "Say hello to the guys."

Ranger furrowed his brow and ran his fingertips over the swell of her breasts. "You mean 'The Girls' don't you?" He bent his head and followed his fingers with his mouth.

She blushed, knowing that the Merry Men were listening. "Noooo!" She hissed. "The guys … at RangeMan!"

His head shot up in surprise and he took a step back from her, anger flashed across his eyes before his blank face slammed into place. "You promised me that you wouldn't tell anyone, Stephanie. You gave me your word." He spoke slowly and deliberately.

She straightened her back, the smile fading from her face. "I didn't tell them!" He arched an eyebrow at her, clearly not believing what she said. "_I _didn't tell them," she repeated. "You did! Tank and Bobby and Hal saw the pearl and put it all together."

He turned away from her and ran his hands over his face and through his hair before he turned back and held out his hand, his expression softened. "I'm sorry, Stephanie … I never thought that …"

They both heard the noise outside at the same time. It sounded like someone had stopped out in the hall and was listening at the door. Steph and Ranger looked at each other and then Steph leaned her back against the door with a soft thud and an 'Ohhh!' She gave Ranger an evil grin, and bounced her butt against the door and gave a long, low whimper, loud enough to be heard out in the hall. Her ass hit the door and as she made a breathy, 'Unh' sound. She started slowly, panting with each bounce, increasing speed, working up to her version of the famous 'When Harry Met Sally' fake sex scene.

Ranger started to search the office, quickly sweeping the room for bugs or cameras but finding nothing. He stopped to watch her performance, his eyes darkening as she writhed against the door, mesmerized by her half closed eyes and parted lips. He stood frozen, barely breathing, when she slowly pulled up her the skirt of her dress and slipped her hands into her panties.

She arched her head back against the door and moaned, letting her eyes flutter closed. He took a step toward her but stopped when she grinned and whipped a tiny plastic baggy out of her panties and tossed it to him. He caught it, but had to blow out a ragged breath and shake his head to clear it before he could get back to work. The bag held the tiny, cutting edge listening devices that matched the ones Steph had planted all over the building.

He grinned at Steph as she 'climaxed' and slid down the door to a grinning heap on the floor. She pressed her ear to the door and heard giggles that faded down the hall. Ranger gave her a hand up off the floor, and as they went to search and bug the storage room he whispered, "Remind me to talk to you about your acting abilities."

She snorted and whispered back, "You have no room to talk when it comes to acting abilities. Between us, we could probably take Hollywood by storm!"

While they searched through the storage room, Stephanie filled him in on what she and the Merry Men had been able to find out about Yuri and his activities. Before they left the office, Ranger cupped her face in his hands, "I can't believe how you figured this whole thing out. Do you have any idea how amazing you are?" He bent to kiss her.

"No," she whispered against his lips, "but I'm glad you do." And she kissed him back with everything she had in her.

RSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRS

Back in the private dining room, Sasha and one of the waiters cleared the appetizer course. The working girls weren't interested in the rest of the dinner since they were still shoveling in the caviar at an alarming rate, washed down with the Cristal Champagne.

Ramon called her over and Sasha stood close to his chair. He lifted her foot into his lap and slipped off her shoe. While the girls stared, their mouths hanging open, and the men smirked, Ramon eased her lace topped thigh high down her leg, kissing the inside of her thigh and knee, then replaced the shoe. He repeated his actions on her other leg and then carefully folded the stockings and put them in his inside jacket pocket. He reached a hand to the back of her neck and as he pulled her down for a kiss, he stuffed something into her cleavage.

When she stood up and pulled it out, she unfolded a one thousand dollar bill. "For the stockings," he said, and he kissed her hand. He turned to Yuri and Dimitri. "I never pay for a woman." He smiled at the men knowingly, as they all raised their glasses and toasted the women they had known.

Steph served course after course of classic Russian dishes to the four men. Ukha, a delicate fish soup, Beef Strognaoff, pelmeni, the traditional meat stuffed dumplings, shashlyk, skewered lamb; she served enough food to feed a small third world nation. Finally, after the dessert courses, the table was cleared and girls were paid off and dismissed.

Sasha brought the men brandy and Cuban cigars, and they prepared to get down to business. She sat in a chair on the far side of the room, and waited to be called to refill a glass or light a cigar. As she nibbled on a bowl of fresh strawberries with Romanoff Cream, she wondered how they were going to handle this meeting. Yuri and Dimitri spoke Russian and Ramon and Che spoke Spanish, and there weren't any translators around. She should have known better than to be shocked or even surprised when Ramon answered Dimitri in what sounded like fluent Russian. She knew that Ranger was multi-lingual … she just didn't realize that Russian was one of the languages he spoke.

It must have been close to four o'clock in the morning when the men took a break. They had argued back and forth for hours with Ramon and Che holding their ground, and now, from what Steph could tell, they seemed to be making progress. She stood and cleared the table bringing clean ashtrays, and a fresh pot of coffee. She called one of the kitchen staff to refill the beautiful antique samovar and to check the tube of burning charcoal that ran through the center of it, keeping the water hot.

Ramon said something and Yuri called Sasha over. "We still have hours of work to do but you may go. You can have the rest of the day off, thank Senor Escobar for that. Now go." She nodded and turned for the door, saying goodbye to Dimitri and Che.

Ranger was waiting for her out in the hall and she walked into his arms. "Caesar and Diego are going to drive you home. I want you to pack your stuff and have them load it in the limo. I'll tell Yuri that I'm kidnapping you. He won't argue with me and we can get you home safely. There really isn't anything else you can accomplish here, and just hanging around is too risky."

He could see that she was going to argue, so he pulled out the big guns. "Please, Babe."

She groaned and put her forehead on his shoulder, "Okay," she whispered. "But only if Diego stays here with you. _I_ don't need the bodyguard, okay?" He nodded and she kissed him long and hard.

Sitting in the back of the limo on the way to her tiny apartment, she had to admit to herself that she was glad to be going home. This had been a very long ten days and she was exhausted. This was hard work, being a spy, and all she wanted to do was lay down and sleep. It would take her about five minutes to pack, and then she would be out of here. She really couldn't wait.

The limo pulled up in front of her apartment building and she jumped out, telling Caesar that she'd be down in a few minutes. It was an old building with no elevator and she trudged up the three flights and down the dimly lit hallway to her one room furnished apartment. Yawning as she wiggled the key in the tricky lock she shoved the stubborn door open and stepped into the room, pushing the door closed with her butt.

Before she could reach for the light switch, a small noise made her freeze and she felt rather than saw someone move in front of her. "Don't move!" the thickly accented voice commanded.

All she could see, gleaming in the moonlight, was the muzzle of the gun that was pointed right at her face.

Ranger and Stephanie were friends and lovers and partners.

And they were still both alive …

They were two weeks, one day, thirteen hours, and fifty-six minutes into her plan to save him.

_**TBC …**_

_**A/N: Poor Steph just can't catch a break, can she? So who has the gun in her face and who's gonna save her this time? **_

_**Thank you for all your wonderful reviews. I'll continue to answer every one. So far, most of you want to see a clean shaven Ranger again, without the scars and tattoos. I'll have a chat with him and see what he wants … he kinda likes some of the tats. How about his hair? Right now it's past his shoulders and we all know how Steph loves the feel of it … but tell me what you want to see? Leave it long? Cut it short? Somewhere in between? Let me know what you think …**_


	34. Black Jack!

_**Disclaimer: Everyone belongs to Janet Evanovich except the ones that are mine, and I'm just playing.**_

_**Warnings: Slight Sappiness, Language, and All 12 books.**_

_**A/N: Special thanks to my Dream Team: Super Karen my fabulous Editor, Luisa, Brain Stormer and Translator Extraordinario, and Lindsay my Voice of Reason, Lisa for making me laugh, and all the BC Babes for support, friendship, suggestions, hand holding, cheer leading and general ass kicking. I love you all!**_

_**Thank you to all of you wonderful readers and reviewers! I've tried to answer each and every review that you've sent. You've all made my Inner Review Slut very happy!**_

_**Don't forget to read Kashy's fabulous 'Keep The Faith' … you don't want to miss it! Read and review them please, you'll be glad you did! **_

_**The Name Of The Game!**_

_**By Stayce (XJerseyGirl)**_

_**Chapter 34: Black Jack!**_

Stephanie couldn't breathe, every bit of air had left her lungs and she felt like she had forgotten how to inhale. All she could do was focus on the muzzle of the automatic that was pointing at her face. As her eyes adjusted to the dark of the room, she could make out the shape of the man standing in front of her, holding that gun mere inches from her nose. He was tall, well built, and standing so close that there was no hope of escape.

"Who are you?" His thick Russian accent made him hard to understand.

Stephanie dragged in a breath and cleared her throat, "Sasha Tarasova," she whispered. She knew that she was still wired and that RangeMan was listening in, but they were hours away and wouldn't come bursting through the door to save her.

"What are you doing here?" he growled at her.

"I live here," she said carefully, sticking with her cover story.

"Don't play with me! I know who lives here. How did you get the key?" he demanded.

"I got it from the landlord when I rented the place last week." He obviously was looking for the previous tenant and this was all just a stupid mistake.

He made a derisive sound. "If you don't tell me what you're doing here and where I can find the woman who rented this apartment, I promise that you will be very sorry." His voice was low and ominous.

As Steph opened her mouth to answer, the man's cell phone rang and he automatically reached for it, glancing down at his belt. Steph took full advantage of the momentary distraction and swung her arm up, knocking the gun aside, then grabbed the front of his shirt, hauling him toward her. Totally taken off guard, he took the step forward and she slammed her knee into his groin, then balled up her fist and punched him in the side of the face with everything she had in her. His eyes rolled back in his head and his knees buckled, sending him down to the floor.

Steph hissed out a string of curses as the pain in her hand shot up her arm and she shook her fingers to relieve it. She quickly snatched the gun off the floor where he dropped it and turned on the light, looking down at her would-be assailant. He was curled on the floor in a fetal position, both hands cupping his family jewels. His cell phone started ringing again and out of curiosity, she picked it up and glanced at the Caller ID.

"Well, shit!" she muttered and flipped the phone open. "Yo!" she answered.

There was a long moment of silence before Tank's voice said, 'Steph?"

"Hello, _Pierre_. Is there a message you want me to give the guy I just knocked out?"

Tank gave a long sigh. "Yeah, warn him that you don't look like you because you're in disguise."

"Anh-hah! Do ya think he'll buy it?" The man on the floor started to groan.

"Probably not. Tell him that the password is 'Rex'. He'll believe you, whether he'll forgive you is another story."

"Good thing I've got his gun then, huh?" she said sarcastically. "So nice of you to let me know I was gonna have company. Jeez Tank! I almost had a heart attack! Who is this guy, anyway?"

"His name is Max Borodin and he's from the Miami office. He speaks Russian and a whole slew of other languages, does translations and international searches and surveillance for RangeMan. Plus he has relatives in Brighton Beach. We brought him in as part of your cover story. Uh … Bomber, you just clocked your new bodyguard."

"Well that's just friggin' swell! I was able to take him down real easy, Tank. You sure he's a Merry Man? Maybe I should be HIS bodyguard?"

Tank snorted a laugh, "Nobody warned him about you and your knee, Bomber. You had an unfair advantage."

Steph rolled her eyes and looked down at Max, who was still trying to catch his breath. "He's conscious, maybe you better talk to him yourself."

She bent down and handed the white faced man his phone back. "It's Tank."

He didn't look at her, just held his hand out for the phone. "Tank, you son of a bitch, why didn't you warn me I needed a cup?" he groaned, his Russian accent suddenly gone.

Steph could hear Tank's booming laugh as Max juggled the phone. He sat up and rested his elbows on his knees, looking at Steph as he listened to whatever it was that Tank was saying. There was a lot of 'ah-hahs' and 'okays' as Max looked her up and down. Two minutes later he snapped the phone closed and started to get up off the floor.

Steph held out her hand to help him up. Max struggled to his feet and bent over, putting his hands on his knees, obviously still in discomfort. He looked up at her, "You a man hater or something?"

Steph chuckled, "Not me! It's just a real effective method of taking down a guy, no matter how big he is." She studied him a little, "No offense, but you don't do a lot of field work, do you?"

He shook his head, "I do a lot of surveillance so I don't have to get up close and personal anymore. I've been tied to a desk for the last couple of years. I guess my street skills are a little rusty," he smiled at her ruefully. "I underestimated you."

Steph's eyebrows shot up. She thought that the days of Merry Men putting down her abilities were long gone, now this clown shows up … "Excuse me?" the sarcasm dripped off her words.

Max held up his hands when he saw the fire in her eyes, "No, no … not because you're a woman." He shook his head as he stood all the way up. "Because you're small … Big mistake … BIIIIG mistake."

"So just exactly why are you here, anyway?"

"The guys thought it would be a good idea to have somebody close by to do live translations. I can give you a play by play of what's going on _while_ it's going on. Plus, I'm part of your cover story." He gave her a grin, "I'm your lover."

Steph rolled her eyes again. Just what she needed, a comedian. "So, how much do you know about … everything?"

"Pretty much all of it. Tank and Bobby brought in the A Teams from Boston and Miami so that we won't be recognized in Jersey. They filled me in pretty thoroughly before I got on the plane. I needed to be up to speed so that I could assess anything I heard."

"Tank said that you have family here?"

"Yeah, an aunt and uncle but I haven't seen them since I was a kid. They can help establish the reason I'm here though. You know .. only family left … blah, blah, blah. "

A car honked outside. "Damn," she said to Max, "I hate to cut this short, but I told Ranger that I'd be right back. The limo is outside and I don't want the driver to come looking for me."

She hurriedly started going through the closet and dresser, choosing jeans and a long sleeved shirt, undies and shoes, stuffing them into her small duffle. Max gingerly lowered himself into a small armchair and watched her.

She ducked into the tiny bathroom and grabbed her hair stuff and the makeup remover for her disguise. "Look, I already promised Ranger that I'd leave Brighton Beach and go back to Trenton," she fiddled with the hairbrush she was holding. "I don't want to lie to him, but now that you're here, I think I'll probably do more good staying at the restaurant than sitting at home."

"You don't want to lie to him, but you will?" He raised an eyebrow as he studied her.

She shrugged. "I'll tell him that you're here and I have to help you get set up and that then I'll go home … I just won't tell him when." She sighed deeply and stuffed the rest of her things in the duffle and zipped it.

"Sounds like something Ranger would do," Max said softly.

"Yeah … I learned from the master," she said sadly as she scooped up her things and ran down the stairs and out the front door to the street.

Caesar held the door open for her and Stephanie slipped into the back seat of the limo. Between the set up and the dinner and the meeting, Steph had been on her feet all day and it was catching up with her. She yawned and stretched, then kicked her shoes off her aching feet and sighed as she sank back into the butter soft leather seat. Tucking her legs up under her, she closed her eyes and finally let her body relax.

Unfortunately, her mind still raced with everything that was going on. Max would be staying in her tiny apartment setting up his surveillance equipment, listening in on the bugs that she and Ranger had planted in Yuri's office. If they were going to pick up anything helpful, probably it would be from the restaurant. Maybe she could convince Ranger that it was a good idea for her to stay in Brighton Beach. _Yeah, right_, she thought groggily, _I wouldn't lay money on that bet!_

She yawned again as the car came to a stop in front of the restaurant. The lights still shone from the upstairs dining room windows and Steph wished she knew what was going on. She was pretty sure that Ranger and Hector were still safe and would stay that way until the 'merchandise' came into the country. Once it arrived here, though, the Russians probably wouldn't need to keep their 'delivery service' around and the two men she loved would become expendable to both the Russians and the Feds.

Ranger already knew who was selling this mysterious 'merchandise,' now if only she could find out who was buying it, then they would have all the information they needed and the Feds could close down the whole operation. The mission would be a success, the bad guys would be caught, and everybody could go home … alive and well.

Despite the thoughts flying through her head, exhaustion took over and without realizing it, Steph dozed off while she waited for Ranger and Hector to finish their meeting. The slight vibration of the idling vehicle, the warm interior and the comfortable seats, lulled her into a light, dreamless sleep.

_**RSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRS**_

She awoke with a start and leaned forward when Caesar opened the back door for Ramon and Che. She could hear them talking and laughing loudly, she supposed with the Russians. As he got into the car, Hector held his finger to his lips in the classic 'hush' sign, and gave a slight tilt of his head, indicating that someone was behind him.

Steph gave him a tiny nod of understanding, sat back against the far door, watching a little curiously as Yuri and Mikhail climbed into the back of the limo and sat in the side seats with Che. Ramon sat next to her on the back seat and put a possessive hand on her leg, running it up and down her thigh and slipping his fingers under her dress to touch her bare leg. Steph played along and smiled nervously, pulling her skirt down over her knees and acting embarrassed in front of the other men.

Yuri gave Caesar an address and the limo pulled away from the curb. Che opened a bottle after bottle of Cristal and passed around flutes of the bubbly liquid, filling and refilling the glasses. Getting drunker and drunker, the four men laughed and joked in Russian, getting louder and rowdier. From the looks she was getting, as well as Ramon's 'roaming hands', Stephanie knew that 'Sasha' was the topic of the entire conversation.

Steph's spidey-sense was tingling like crazy and she shivered as a chill passed through her. Even thought he was laughing and joking with the other men, she caught Yuri staring at her legs and breasts. He watched her with an odd, almost hungry expression on his drunken face. Stephanie knew what a cruel and dangerous man he was; she remembered what he had done to Sonya Thrasher and how he had kidnapped and terrorized Zoë, her daughter. He had never really put any moves on her at the restaurant, but that didn't mean that Steph had forgotten exactly what kind of a monster the man was.

She tore her eyes from the Russian and turned to Ranger. If Steph didn't know better, she would have said he was well on his way to being drunk as a skunk. His eyelids drooped and he slurred his words, he was slouched down in the seat, his smile too wide and his laugh too loud. She was constantly amazed at what a good actor he was and how easily he could slip into the Ramon character.

Her eyes met his and something like fear skittered through her as she realized with a start that she wasn't sitting next to Ranger. This was Ramon who was leering at her, groping her, whispering a litany of things that he wanted to do to her, making her stomach clench in panic. She knew that Ranger would never hurt her, but she remembered how difficult it had been for him to step out of the Ramon persona the last time they were together.

Ramon seemed oblivious to the others in the vehicle as he ran his fingers along the scoop neckline of her dress, over the swell of her breasts as he stared into her eyes. She realized that Yuri and Mikhail were watching every move they made and she decided that like it or not, it was time for her to start playing along. She let the tip of her tongue slide over her parted lips and she leaned against Ramon, kissing him wantonly, stroking the inside of his thigh and nipping at his ear lobe while she played with his hair. A growl rumbled in his chest and she gave a deep, throaty chuckle, looking at him through her eyelashes.

Encouraged, Ramon leered at her drunkenly and wrapped his hand around the back of her neck as he pulled her mouth to his, kissing her long and hard. He took his champagne glass and pressed it to her lips, tipping it so that the icy liquid spilled down her chin and onto her chest. She squealed and laughed as it ran in a little stream down between her breasts. Ramon's intense black eyes fixed on the river of champagne and he leaned down to trace the wet path with his tongue, making her gasp.

Yuri, Mikhail, and Che had kept up a steady chatter of conversation, punctuated with bursts of laughter during Ramon and Sasha's little foreplay show. Ramon's cold eyes locked with hers as he reached into his inside jacket pocket and brought out her carefully folded black hose. He took one of the stockings and looped it around her wrists, tying them together and the other three men fell silent as his lips tipped up in a smile that didn't reach his eyes.

She bit her lip as Ramon took her bound hands and raised them over her head, slipping the bonds onto the coat hook above the car door. Stephanie pulled against the ties as the curl of panic in her chest grew but they only tightened around her wrists. She looked into his stony eyes, searching for reassurance, but only found a predator looking back at her. Her heart hammered in her chest and she tried to convince herself that this was all for show, all to maintain Ramon's reputation as a womanizer. She shot a glance at Hector, but he wouldn't meet her eyes and her mouth went dry as she realized how helpless and vulnerable she was.

Yuri leaned forward, breathing through his mouth, clearly turned on by the display, fixated on her. Stephanie let out a small cry and shrank away when Yuri leaned over and touched her face, running his fingers over her mouth. "She has a beautiful mouth, don't you think, my friend? Maybe we should share her?" he said with a leering smile.

With the speed of a rattlesnake, Ramon's hand shot out and grabbed Yuri's wrist, bending his arm until Yuri fell back onto the seat. "Mine!" Ramon growled as he leaned over the man, pressing a knife to his throat, a murderous expression on his face.

Yuri laughed and raised both hands in surrender as he looked up at Ramon. "Alright, alright … the cunt is all yours," he said with a nervous laugh. "I have plenty to choose from."

Stephanie caught Yuri's expression as he watched Ramon sit back in his seat and put his knife away … a look of sheer hatred crossed his face and Yuri made no attempt to hide it. He looked at Sasha and sneered, pursing his lips in a noisy kiss. "Our turn will come, dusha." And then he picked up his glass, raising it to her in a salute.

Ramon turned his attention back to Sasha, releasing her hands from the hook and pulling her close to him. He stroked her cheek and kissed her gently. It was the first protective gesture that he had made, and it eased her fears, but only momentarily. He wrapped his arm around her waist and lifted her across his lap so that she was on her knees, straddling him. Her dress was too tight to let her move, so he slid his hands up the back of her legs, pushing her skirt up until it barely covered her ass, then pulled her down onto him so that they were groin to groin.

His hands gripped her hips tightly as he rocked her against himself and she could feel him harden beneath her. She searched his face for some clue to how she should act, of what he expected of her, but his eyes were closed and his head tipped back as if he were lost in the sensations that the friction of his movements created.

Mikhail laughed and yelled, "Ramon, why waste time dry humping her … just pull off her panties and do her right here. We won't mind! We'll even help!"

Ramon's eyes slitted open and he wore a cold, emotionless smile that grew wider, as if he had decided to take Mikhail up on his suggestion. Her heart stuttered in her chest and her breath caught in her throat when he started to lift her off him and lay her onto the seat. She fisted her hand in his shirt and opened her mouth to beg him not to do this, when he froze. Caesar had pulled the limo to a stop in front of a hotel and came around the car to open the door. Diego stood next to the car, arms folded over his massive chest waiting for the men to exit the vehicle.

Stephanie scrambled over to the corner of the seat and huddled against the door, trying to be invisible as Yuri, Mikhail, Che, and finally Ramon exited the limo and went into the hotel followed by Diego. Struggling with the stocking that still tied her wrists together, she only succeeded in making the knots tighter. Tears of frustration pooled in her eyes and she considered trying to get Caesar's attention and asking him to untie her. But he was Ramon's man and was probably afraid of what would happen if Ramon came out and found his 'toy' gone.

Her head ached and her heart ached and she leaned back in the seat, closing her eyes, trying to sort out what she would do next. She nearly jumped out of her skin when the back door of the limo was pulled open and Che quickly slid onto the back seat, slamming the door behind him. She was so relieved to see him that she flung herself across the car and threw her arms around his neck before she realized that he was holding coffee and a muffin, obviously for her. He settled her back in the seat and put the cup on the floor as he held up a finger in the classic 'wait' gesture. He picked up the car phone and told Caesar to take them to the St. Regis. In a few moments the limo glided away from the curb and Hector slid a disc into the CD player, filling the car with classical music. He turned to Steph and nodded.

"What the hell is going on? A couple of hours ago Ranger seemed fine, now I don't know who he is! What happened?" Stephanie hissed at Hector, the panic clear in her voice.

"I wish I could explain," Hector said softly to her as he pulled a knife from his boot and flipped open the switchblade to cut the stocking off her wrists. "It's getting harder and harder for him to step out of character and leave Ramon behind." He rubbed her reddened, bruised wrists, "It's like he's afraid that if he does, he won't be able to climb back into Ramon's skin again. He's under a lot of pressure and he knows that he can't slip up now."

"I looked into his eyes, Hector, and I couldn't find Ranger at all." She shivered and rubbed her hands up and down her arms.

"Be careful, Steph. Ranger would never hurt you but …"

"But he's not Ranger anymore, is he?" Steph's heart sank as she admitted the truth to herself. The worried expression in Hector's eyes told her that he shared her fears.

Hector shook his head sadly as he pulled her into his arms. "I've never seen him act like this before. As committed as he is to this mission, Ranger would never sacrifice you for it. I don't know what the hell was going through his head with that show he put on for Yuri and Mikhail. The longer he spends as Ramon, the deeper he sinks into that dark side and the harder it is to pull himself out of it." He cupped her cheek, "I don't think you should stay with him tonight, Chica." He took a deep breath. "I don't think it's safe for you."

She laid her head on his shoulder and he rubbed her back soothingly. She fought the tears that pricked at her eyes, "I have to figure out how to help him Hector, I can't walk away from him. I won't. He's committed to the mission … but I'm committed to him."

"I know Chica, I know. But right now he has to be Ramon, there's a whole contingent of Ramon's men here from Vegas, the mission is in full swing … who knows when he'll be able to leave Ramon behind for good."

She noticed that Hector said 'when,' not 'if' even though that's what they were both thinking.

"So the mission is coming to a head. The deal was finalized tonight, and the merchandise will be on the move in a matter of days. You need to get back to Trenton as fast as you can and you need to stay there until this is all over. I think it'll help a lot if he knows that you're safe."

She didn't answer him and he watched her sipping her coffee and nibbling on the blueberry muffin, her eyes fixed on the floor of the car. He bent his head to catch her eye, but she turned away from him. Hector narrowed his eyes when she wouldn't meet his gaze, and reaching out, he took her hand just as she was about to pop a piece of muffin into her mouth.

"Stephanie," he said sternly, "what are you planning?"

"What do you mean?" she asked innocently.

He grabbed her by the shoulders and turned her to face him, studying her. "Oh shit! What are you up to? I know that look! You've got something up your sleeve; I can see it in your face!"

"I have no idea what you're talking abo …," she started to say, but he shook her sharply.

"Cut it out, now! You told Ranger that you'd go back to Trenton right away. You're not going back are you?" he demanded. "Are you?" Hector was almost yelling at her.

"No! I'm not! Satisfied? You got your answer." She pulled away from him and slumped back against the seat.

Hector scrubbed his hands over his face and through his hair and muttered, "Jesus Christ!" under his breath. "What's the plan?" She folded her arms over her chest and looked out the window. "You have a choice, Stephanie. You tell me what you're going to do, or I call the Feds."

She turned on him in wide eyed shock. "You wouldn't! I thought you were my friend … now you're trying to blackmail me! You _traitor_!"

"Your choice, Stephanie. After everything that Ranger and I have been through all these months, and all the work we've done, I can't let you jeopardize the whole mission just because you want to play side kick! I volunteered for this mission so that I could be Ranger's partner and watch his back. That's why _I'm_ here … that's _my _job!" He reached over and put his hand on hers, "Please, Steph, let me do it!"

She tipped her head back against the seat. Tears of frustration gathered in her eyes and spilled down her cheeks. The thought of being shut out, of sitting at home, waiting, maybe forever, just tore at her heart. She knew Hector was right, it was the job he volunteered for, to protect Ranger, to make sure they both got home safely.

She took a deep breath and told Hector everything … from what the Merry Men were doing to help out, to the bugs that she had planted all over the restaurant, to the GPS tracker in her scalp. She told him about Max being in Brighton Beach, about finding out how the Feds had abandoned the men on the Lazarus Missions, about the Russian Mafia's history of double crossing their partners and last but not least, about her idea of sticking around the restaurant to see what else she could find out.

Hector shook his head in disbelief. "You are one amazing woman, Stephanie Plum. Does Ranger know about any of this?" he asked thoughtfully.

"I told him everything when we were in Yuri's office. Look, wouldn't it make a difference if you knew exactly who was buying this stuff? Or even where it was being delivered?" she said hopefully, trying to plead her case.

Hector gave a reluctant nod. "The Russians have been very closed mouthed about where the stuff is going once it gets into the country. Yuri keeps telling us that a final delivery site hasn't been decided on yet, but Ranger and I are pretty sure that's when they're gonna try to get rid of us. We need to find out who's doing the buying so that the Feds can shut down the operation. That's the mission, Steph, to shut down home-grown terrorists."

"Then let me stay and see what I can find out. They don't suspect me, in fact you saw for yourself that they all talk freely in front of me. Tank and the guys are listening in all the time, Max is here as my bodyguard and part of my cover story, I can handle Yuri if he tries anything … please Hector?"

He thought for a minute, then gave a deep sigh. "Do you have a sat phone?"

Steph quickly dug it out of her purse and handed it to him. He programmed his number into it. "You have one week, ONE, and then you leave. You find out anything, you call me. If Ranger or I call you and tell you to get the hell out, you drop everything and go. Same if RangeMan calls … understood?"

She threw her arms around his neck and gave him a couple of big, smacking kisses on the cheek. "I promise, I promise, I promise. I'll do everything you say, Hector, I swear I will. Thank you for not making me go home."

He looked at her seriously, "I still mean it Steph, do anything to risk your safety or the mission, and I _will_ call the Feds, for everybody's good."

She gave him a smart-ass salute and he finally relented and laughed, raising her hand to his lips and kissing the back of it. The car came to a halt in front of the St. Regis Hotel and the doorman opened the door

"Welcome back to the St. Regis, Señor Montenegro, Madam. Do you have any luggage?"

_**RSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRS**_

She stood in the bathroom of Senor Escobar's suite, carefully removing Sasha and transforming herself back into Stephanie. Maybe, she had thought, if he comes back and finds Stephanie waiting for him, if Babe was here instead of Sasha, maybe then she'd have her Ranger back.

Even after a week of living with a different face, it still startled her when she looked in a mirror and didn't see her own blue eyes looking back at her. She carefully removed the dental appliances that changed the look of her teeth and the shape of her mouth and cheeks and put them in their little cases.

The whiskey colored contact lenses came next and she couldn't help but rub her eyes after the lenses were out. She'd have to remember to get some eye drops, the kind that took the red out. Using the specialized makeup remover that Danny had given her, she made sure all the glue and goop was gone from her skin, then washed her face at least 3 times before she felt clean and could look in the mirror and recognize the reflection.

There was nothing she could do with her hair to change it back to her wild curls right now. Danny had straightened it, and he had done a top notch job, but it was the haircut that was the masterpiece. Straight, glossy cinnamon colored bangs fell over her forehead to just below her eyebrows and tapered sides framed her face. The rest of it hung straight and shiny to her shoulders, the blunt cut making it look thick and healthy.

She got a little thrill every time she turned her head and her hair would swing and she actually considered keeping it this way when her 'disguise days' were over. She had to smile at her 'shampoo commercial' hair. For thirty years she'd had a love/hate relationship with her wild child, rat's nest, Bride of Frankenstein, scary hair. She had spent a small fortune on conditioners and shampoos and treatments and potions to try to tame the frizzies and make her curls look sexy. It didn't escape her that the sleek, sophisticated look that she had wanted for so many years was one of the things that helped to disguise Stephanie Plum.

Ranger had whispered that he missed her wild curls when he had her pinned to the wall in the restaurant. It was how he let her know that he recognized her. He was on only person on the face of the planet who liked her curls and she wondered what he'd think the first time he fisted his hands in her long, straight hair when they were in bed together, making love.

She loved the feel of his hair in her hands. A delicious shiver passed through her when she though of those long, silky strands drifting over her naked skin, whispering down her body, sliding over her thighs. She snapped her eyes open and gave herself a little shake. She had to cut this out, otherwise she'd be jumping him the minute she laid eyes on him … probably not a good idea until she knew if she was dealing with Ranger … or Ramon.

Steph turned on the shower then pulled down the zipper on her dress, stepping out of it. She was beyond tired at this point, and all she really wanted to do was get in the shower and wash off the smell of cigar smoke and restaurant, pull on her jammies and crawl into bed. She looked around for her duffle, but she had left it in the other room and she went to get it.

Four steps into the bedroom and she realized that she wasn't alone. She spun around and found Ranger standing there, staring at her as she stood in front of him in only her black lace bra, panties and heels. She froze, unable to move as she watched his eyes turn black with lust and a feral smile tipped his lips up as Ramon looked her over.

His hair was loose, hanging below his shoulders, and the moustache and goatee gave him an almost diabolical look. He had been undressing, his feet were bare and his pants were partially unzipped, hanging low on his hips. His white dress shirt was pulled out of the waistband and hung open. He had just started to shrug it off his shoulder but he let it fall back into place when he saw her.

Her eyes slid from his face, down the muscled expanse of his chest, over his abs to the light dusting of dark hair that led like an arrow to his shaft. She could see the effect she was having on him and she licked her dry lips while she watched him harden. She would never know if it was desire or fear that went zinging down her spine, she only knew that she felt like she was looking into the cold, hard eyes of a cobra and she was incapable of moving.

"Querida," was all he said, his deep voice smooth and chilling. He tipped his head down slightly and held her eyes in an almost hypnotic stare as he took a step toward her. She felt her heart stutter in her chest, her breathing turned ragged. He took another step and she knew that he was stalking her. Another step and she was trembling and her breath coming in ragged pants. She couldn't seem to tear her eyes away from his.

All she had to do was make it to the door and the safety of Hector's suite right across the hall, but try as she might, she couldn't make her body cooperate. Ramon took another slow step toward her and she finally snapped, bolting for the door. He was on her in a second, his arms around her like iron bands, lifting her off the floor. She fought him with everything she had in her, scratching and biting, but it only seemed to excite him as he carried her over and threw her onto the middle of the bed so hard that it knocked the breath out of her.

Before she could even move, he had shucked his pants and was on top of her, ripping away her panties and pinning her hands over her head. Hooking his hand under her leg, he bent her knee and pulled it out to the side. He filled her with a single thrust. Closing his eyes, a long low groan escaped him and he started to move in her, pulling almost all the way out and slamming back in, slowly as first, then harder, faster, deeper.

She turned her hands to brace herself against the headboard as he pounded into her, lost in the sensations. Finally, he bent his head and sank his teeth into her shoulder so hard that he drew blood and as she cried out in pain, he came. He collapsed on top of her, gasping for breath, and she could feel his heart hammering in his chest. She laid perfectly still, her face turned away from him, and waited for him to move. Eventually he rolled off of her and turned onto his side, his back to her. He pulled the comforter over himself, and immediately fell asleep.

Stephanie lay there, so stunned by what had just happened that she couldn't even cry. In all the time they had been together, in all the ways that they had made love, had sex, just plain fucked … he had never, ever used her. No matter where they had been, or what the circumstances, or how little time they had, Ranger had always made sure that she was well and truly satisfied. She realized with heartbreaking clarity that now, she was in bed with a stranger … she was lying next to Ramon Escobar.

Already knowing that she would be bruised and sore tomorrow, she crawled slowly out of the big bed, determined not to wake him. She picked up her duffle and went into the bathroom, locking the door behind her. The shower was still running and she stepped under the spray, needing to wash the smell and feel and evidence of Ramon from her body.

Drying off and dressing quickly, she stuffed everything back into the duffle and slipped silently out of the bathroom. She needed to get out of here before he woke up and she made for the door but she was pulled up short by the sight of the shredded scrap of satin and lace that had been her panties. She automatically bent down to pick them up, but she stopped and thought better of it. She wanted no reminders of this terrible encounter.

She couldn't help herself and she let her eyes trail over to the bed. He was still lying on his side, the scarred part of his face pressed into the pillow. She was looking at Ranger, at Carlos, the man she loved and her heart melted. She had to believe that somewhere, no matter how deeply buried, he was still there. He stirred then and turned over, suddenly becoming Ramon, the animal who found it so easy to hurt her and she instinctively took a step back.

Two men, one body. It terrified her to think that Ramon could win the internal struggle and that Ranger might be lost forever.

With a final glance at him, she stepped into the hall and silently closed the door behind her.

_**Ranger and Stephanie were friends and lovers and partners.**_

_**They were two weeks, three days, nineteen hours, and twenty-eight minutes into her plan to save him.**_

_**But could she save Ranger from Ramon?**_

_**TBC …**_

_**A/N: Well if it isn't one problem for Steph, it's another. The girl can't catch a break. Will she be able to bring Ranger back, or will Ramon win? Does love really conquer all? Let me know how you think she should get him to come back.**_

_**Votes are in for a long haired, clean shaven Ranger with no scars and maybe a tat or two.**_

_**Thank you for all of the wonderful Birthday wishes you sent. Again I apologize for missing a week and not posting, but again, real life has beaten up my family! But in good news, we've gotten all my husband's test results and they found nothing life threatening. My daughter-in-law is feeling better and the baby is healthy, her name will be/is Olivia. Trevor is only 8 months old and too young to realize that competition is coming. My son Adam is stunned at the thought of someday having 3 in college at the same time! My other son, Nick and his fiancée are doing well and we have a lot to be grateful for this year. I hope you do too!**_

_**Thank you all for your wonderful reviews, your prayers for my family, and your best wishes … you are all part of the things that I'm grateful for and you all bless my life. Happy Thanksgiving to you all!**_

_**Stayce**_


	35. Stratego!

_**Disclaimer: Everyone belongs to Janet Evanovich except the ones that are mine, and I'm just playing.**_

_**Warnings: Slight Sappiness, Language, and All 12 books.**_

_**A/N: Special thanks to my Dream Team: Super Karen my fabulous Editor, Luisa, Brain Stormer and Translator Extraordinario, and Lindsay my Voice of Reason, Lisa for making me laugh, and all the BC Babes for support, friendship, suggestions, hand holding, cheer leading and general ass kicking. I love you all!**_

_**Thank you to all of you wonderful readers and reviewers! I've tried to answer each and every review that you've sent, but last week got the better of me. You've all made my Inner Review Slut very happy!**_

_**Don't forget to read Kashy's fabulous 'Keep The Faith' … you don't want to miss it! Read and review it please, you'll be glad you did! **_

_**The Name Of The Game!**_

_**By Stayce (XJerseyGirl)**_

_**Chapter 35: Stratego!**_

Stephanie stood in the hall and leaned her forehead against the door of the suite, closing her eyes to stem her tears. "I love you, Carlos," she whispered against the wood and she turned away to walk down the hall toward the elevator. She was just going to leave, jump in a cab and spend a couple hundred dollars to escape back to Brighton Beach. It would be worth it not to have to see Ramon again. Stopping in front of Hector's door she hesitated. No, she couldn't just leave, she thought, Hector would worry about what happened to her. But it was so late and he was probably asleep. She stood there with her hand raised to knock and couldn't seem to make up her mind. She was in too much turmoil to think straight, she needed to clear her head and maybe get some sleep before she made any rash decisions she might regret.

Finally, she tapped softly on the door. If he didn't hear her, she'd just leave and call him later. In a few seconds Hector opened the door, taking in her pale face and wet hair. Now that she was standing in front of him, she didn't bother to fight the tears that pooled in her eyes and slid down her cheeks.

"Oh Jesus, Steph!" She could hear the emotion in his voice as he pulled her into the room and wrapped his arms around her. "What happened?"

She couldn't answer him; she couldn't even meet his eyes, just shook her head and let the tears fall.

"Are you okay?" and looked her over when she didn't answer. "Son of a bitch!" he muttered through clinched teeth and went off into a string of Spanish when he saw the blood seeping into the shoulder of her blouse.

He took her hand and led her into the bathroom, sitting her up on the counter by the sink. He lifted the collar of her shirt and looked at her shoulder, "I'm gonna get the first aid kit, take off your shirt, Sweetie."

He came back a few minutes later and stopped in the doorway, watching as she struggled to open the small buttons on the cuffs of her shirt. Her hands shook so hard that she couldn't manage to get them undone and he stepped into the bathroom, placing a small kit and a glass of amber liquid on the counter next to her.

He opened the buttons and gently helped her off with the shirt, then efficiently went to work and dabbed away the little bit of blood on her skin, his mouth set in a grim line once he recognized the wound as a bite mark. Handing her the glass, he told her to drink it down and as the alcohol burned its way down her throat, he swiped at her shoulder with an antiseptic pad.

She flinched and gasped at the same time, choking on the alcohol and pulling away from the sting of the iodine. She shot Hector a glare. "That was a dirty trick!" she sputtered.

He gave her a grin. "It worked, didn't it? You hardly felt the antiseptic!" He was pleased to see that she had come out of the stupor she had been in.

She shuddered and made a face, sticking out her tongue and making a gagging sound, "God, I hate Scotch. It's disgusting! How can anybody drink that stuff?" She shuddered again.

"It served its purpose." He efficiently finished cleaning up her shoulder. "So," he said gently, "are you gonna tell me what happened?" He taped a gauze square over the bite mark on her shoulder.

She flushed and looked down at her hands, shrugging her shoulders. "You were right. I wasn't safe with him. Ranger would never hurt me, but it wasn't Ranger who came into that suite." She shook her head. "I should have listened to you." She looked up at Hector, stricken, "I should have known in the limo … but I just wanted to believe that it was all an act …"

Tears welled up in her eyes again and Hector wrapped her in his arms, rocking her gently. "Come on, let's get you to bed. You'll feel better after you get some sleep and we'll talk then." He scooped her up, carried her into the bedroom and sat her on the edge of the bed, helping her undress and slide under the covers.

"You aren't going to leave are you?" she asked, her voice sounding small and lost.

"No, Steph, I'll stay right here." He went around the bed and climbed in, reached over for her hand and twined his fingers with hers. "You sleep; I'll keep watch. You're safe now." He raised her hand and gave it a kiss. Hector lay next to her, listening to her crying quietly, and wishing he could fix this mess for the two people he cared so much about.

RSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRS

Stephanie dragged herself up through the layers of deep sleep to consciousness. Her head ached and her eyes burned from her crying jag last night. It seemed to take too much effort to lift her swollen eyelids, so she just lay there, listening to the sounds around her. She could hear people moving around and low voices from the other room.

The edge of the bed dipped and gentle fingers pushed her hair out of her face, tucking it behind her ear. The delicious aroma of fresh coffee wafted around her and she inhaled it deeply. Slowly, she uncurled her body and stretched a little, slitting her eyes open to find Ramon sitting on the edge of the bed holding a coffee cup. She let out a small cry as she bolted upright and scooted away, backing all the way across the bed and almost falling on the floor in an effort to get away from him as fast as she could. Holding her hand out as if to ward him off she got out of the bed and retreated toward the bathroom. He immediately stood up and moved away from the bed.

"God damn it, get away from her!" Hector's voice barked from the doorway, "I told you that you'd scare her. How the hell is she supposed to know who you are?" He took in Steph's wide eyes as he crossed the room to put his hands on her shoulders.

"It's okay Sweetie, it isn't Ramon." Steph looked over his shoulder at the man still standing on the other side of the bed, studying him carefully. Finally, she breathed a sigh of relief and sagged against Hector, running her hands over her face.

"I'm sorry. I over reacted," she said, looking at Ranger who was staring back at her with a mixture of guilt and remorse, two emotions she had never really seen him show. It dawned on her that he always seemed to live his life so carefully that she didn't think he ever had much to feel sorry for. It looked like this was a new experience for him, like he didn't know what to do with those feelings. All she wanted to do was wrap him in her arms and tell him that everything would be okay. Instead, she took a deep breath and nodded toward the bathroom, "I'm just gonna go wash may face and I'll be right out."

She closed the door behind her and leaned against it, tipping her head back and looking at the ceiling. Oh God! She had acted like an idiot. All she had to do was look into his eyes to know that he was Ranger, and she was always safe with Ranger. She quickly washed her face and brushed her teeth, ran her damp fingers through her straight hair and slipped into the velour robe that the hotel provided. She looked in the mirror and wished she had her mascara. Something told her that she was going to need a large dose of courage before this day was out.

Stephanie cinched the belt tightly, blew out a deep breath and walked out of the bathroom just as Hector came back into the bedroom with a cup of coffee for her. It was fixed exactly the way she liked it and she smiled as she took a sip, knowing that Ranger had made it. It was just what she needed, she decided, as she felt the caffeine course through her and start to clear her fuzzy brain. She looked around the room and her heart sank when she realized that Ranger wasn't there. Her eyes flew to Hector with the unspoken question written all over her face.

Hector read her easily. "Don't worry, he didn't leave, he's in the other room. He decided to wait out there because he frightened you so badly."

"He didn't have to do that. I know who he is … I was just … I was so …" She crossed to the doorway and stopped when she caught sight of Ranger in the living room. He sat in one of the chairs, his elbows on his knees, looking down at the coffee cup in his hands, his hair loose, hiding his face. As if she had called his name, his head snapped up and his eyes met hers.

He stood up immediately and started to take a step toward her, but stopped himself. "Babe …" Everything about him said that he was a man in pain. He made no attempt to hide the emotion in his voice or the confusion and doubt on his face. For once in his life, the man who could handle anything didn't know what to do and her heart broke for him … for both of them.

She flew across the room into his arms, and he crushed her to him, lifting her off the floor. "I thought it was a dream, a nightmare," he whispered, "and then I woke up and saw the blood on the sheets and your … and you were gone …" his voice caught in his throat as he buried his face in her hair. "I'm so sorry, Babe … I'm so sorry. I don't know how I could hurt you like that."

"Shhhh, shhhh, I know it wasn't you. You would never hurt me." She held onto him with all her might and feathered kisses on his temple and his forehead and his eyes. "I know you love me … we'll figure it out … together."

He stood her back on her feet and framed her face with his hands, pushing her hair back, studying her, looking for fear or hesitation. He saw nothing but her trust and love for him. "I don't deserve you."

"No, you don't. But you're stuck with me so you better get used to it." She could have bitten her tongue for her smart-assed remark, but it had just sort of slipped out. She was relieved to feel him relax against her.

He couldn't help but smile at her, "I love you, my brave girl." He hugged her to him and she settled her head on his shoulder

"I love you back," she whispered, her lips moving against his neck.

Hector stood in the doorway, arms crossed over his chest. "Well, you two are about to make me gag. I'm going to get dressed and go down to the dining room and give you some privacy."

"No!" Ranger said, louder than necessary. He took a step back from Stephanie and both she and Hector looked at Ranger in surprise. "Stephanie is never to be alone with me." He looked at Hector. "Until I can trust myself not to slip into Ramon's persona, I can't trust myself not to hurt her. Hector, I expect you to protect her … from _me_ … at all costs."

Hector looked at Ranger and Steph could see the silent communication between them. Finally it looked like Hector relented, giving Ranger a single, curt nod.

Stephanie stared at Ranger, open mouthed, she wasn't sure that she knew what he meant by 'at all costs'. Or maybe she was just afraid that she did. Panic was written all over her face. "I don't understand. Ranger? What did Hector just agree to? You don't want to be with me? Why?"

"No, I don't … Stephanie, what I'm saying is that I can't trust myself with you, I can't trust myself not to hurt you again. Look what I did to you last night … and I didn't even know it was happening. I can't put you through that again. I _won't _take that chance. Now that I know what I'm capable of, I won't risk your safety."

"What about what I want? Doesn't that count for anything?" The anger in her voice was clear, once again he was making decisions for her.

"Of course it counts, Steph. But it doesn't change anything. Are you willing to chance a repeat of last night? Are you honestly going to tell me that you can sit and wait for me to come home and not worry about who was going to come through the door?" He rubbed his hands up and down her arms. "I love you. I don't ever want you to have any reason to doubt me again." He pressed a kiss to her forehead.

She pulled out of his arms and turned away from him, unable to meet his eyes. "So what happens now?" she asked, tears of frustration threatening to spill onto her cheeks. She swiped them away, determined that she wouldn't cry in front of him.

"For now, nothing different than we planned. You'll go back to Trenton, and Hector and I finish this mission." He stepped up behind her and put his arms around her waist, pulling her back against him. "Thanks to you, we have Tank and the men watching our backs. Things don't look as bleak for us as they did before and we actually have a real chance of making it back home. Once the mission is over and done with, then we'll see where things stand and I'll do whatever is necessary to make sure that Ramon is gone forever."

Stephanie made an 'Um' sound and flicked her eyes to Hector who raised his eyebrows. He looked at Steph and jerked his head toward Ranger, mouthing the words, 'Tell him.' Steph cleared her throat before she spoke. "I guess you better know that I'm not going back to Trenton," she said in one breath before turning to face him. "I'm staying in Brighton Beach to keep an eye on Yuri and Mikhail."

"Stephanie, you gave me your word that you would go home." There was a sharp edge of displeasure to his voice that Steph couldn't ignore. It only made her more determined not to knuckle under this time.

"Yeah well, that was a knee jerk reaction. I gave it some thought and decided it wasn't the most useful thing for me to do. Especially after last night when I saw how much Yuri despises Ramon."

Ranger's eyes went to Hector who shrugged, "All things considered, it isn't a bad idea," was all he said.

Breakfast was ordered and Ranger went to shower and dress in his suite, while Steph stayed in Hector's. She tried to wheedle Ranger into letting her come with him, but much to her dismay, he stuck to his new rule about not being alone with her. He kissed her mouth gently and thoroughly, then pulled back the collar of her robe and brushed his lips over the mark he had left on her shoulder. "Someday I'll make it up to you, Babe, I give you my word." He kissed her again and went back to his suite.

By the time the room service waiter arrived, Steph was ready to lay out her whole plan, convinced that Ranger would agree that it just might work. "Look," Steph had said after the man left the room, "Everybody agrees that the Russians are gonna double cross Ramon and his organization, right?"

Ranger and Hector both nodded in agreement. "It isn't a question of 'if', it's a question of 'when,' Ranger said over the rim of his coffee cup. "That's our biggest concern now, trying to anticipate when they'll make their move."

"And if it works, that's what my plan will tell us," Steph said as she cut the corner off her Belgian waffle. "We all know that once the Feds get their information they'll wash their hand of you both, right? They'll drop you like the proverbial hot potatoes to fend for yourselves! So it really isn't to their advantage to give you any information, even if they had it." She popped the piece of waffle, topped with fresh strawberries and whipped cream into her mouth. She closed her eyes and moaned in pleasure.

Hector snorted. "You want to know when I realized that Sasha was you?" He asked. "When you moaned over the caviar. Nobody gets as orgasmic over food as you do." He looked across the table at Ranger. "If ever there was a woman who could make me switch teams, my friend, it's your woman."

Stephanie grinned and put another bite of waffle into her mouth, the tip of her tongue removing a dollop of whipped cream from the corner of her mouth. Ranger's eyes were riveted on her mouth, and he leaned over to her and whispered in her ear, "Maybe I need to rethink that never being alone rule, unless you wouldn't mind Hector watching." She felt the heat rise in her face as she blushed furiously at the idea of someone they knew watching while they made love.

She took a deep breath, "Okay boys, you're just trying to distract me!" she said as she finished the last of her breakfast. "Back to my plan!" She looked sadly at her empty plate, wishing for more.

Hector poured her another cup of coffee and they all sat back in their chairs.

"Ramon laid a very public claim to Sasha," Steph started, "and everybody from Yuri to the kitchen staff to those hookers know about it. Yuri hates Ramon's guts, right?" Ranger nodded. "But he's too scared shitless of him to do anything that might make Ramon angry."

Hector snorted, "Yuri thinks Ramon is a madman. Plus he's deathly afraid of Ramon's reputation with a knife." He smiled evilly at Ranger. "I thought he was going to pee his pants when you held that knife on him last night."

Steph nodded. "Yuri wants Sasha but he would never make a move on her unless he thought that Ramon wasn't a threat anymore and wouldn't come looking for revenge."

"And the only way that Ramon wouldn't be a threat is if the double cross was going down." Hector finished the thought for her.

"Yup! I'm hoping that if I keep wagging my tail right under his nose everyday, he's isn't gonna be able to wait until you guys are 'out of the way.' If I work on him, you know that he's gonna jump the gun and make his move as soon as he thinks he can get away with it." She leaned her elbows on the table and looked at Ranger. "So, what do you think?"

"I think it's too dangerous. You're playing with fire with Yuri and you're just begging for trouble. I can't let you do this."

"Bullshit! You know the Feds are gonna sell you down the river. They only care about getting the information they want." Steph was up out of her chair and pacing by now. "They could know everything about the set up and they'd let you walk into an ambush and they wouldn't give you a heads up unless it suited their purposes," she bent down and punctuated each word by sticking her finger in Ranger's face, "and you know it!"

She waved her arms. "You'd have no warning, no idea which way the attack was coming from." With each sentence she got angrier and her voice got louder. "At least this way there's a chance I might find out something and that's better than nothing. And if you think that I'm gonna sit at home with my hands in my lap and do nothing, or you're gonna turn me over to the Feds, you've got another thing coming, Mister! You got it?" She turned on her heel, grabbed her purse and duffle bag, and marched out of the room.

Hector flinched as the bedroom door slammed so hard the pictures on the walls tilted. "Well," Hector said to Ranger as he lifted his coffee cup in a silent salute to Stephanie. "Guess she told _you_!"

"That woman is a force of nature, isn't she?" Ranger said with a small smile and a shake of his head. He pushed back from the table and stood up, "I'm gonna go calm the lioness in her den, I'll leave the door open."

Hector unfolded the newspaper and picked up his coffee cup. "Just don't make too much noise," he grinned when Ranger shot him a pained look.

Ranger tapped lightly on the door and opened it slowly and stepped into the room. Through the open bathroom door he could see Steph leaning into the mirror, furiously slathering on mascara. He leaned against the door jamb and watched her.

She stopped in mid swipe and looked at him in the mirror. "I suppose you come in here to argue with me! It won't do you any good, you know!" She turned around to face him, hands firmly planted on her hips, the picture of defiance.

"No Babe," Ranger said, resignation in his voice. "I won't argue with you. But I do expect you to keep Max close and to be on your guard. Always carry and never, _ever _let yourself get caught alone with Yuri. Give me your word that you'll be careful."

She looked at him suspiciously. "Okay, you have my word. But I expect you to promise me that you won't take unnecessary risks, that you won't play hero."

"You have my word." He held out his hand and they shook then he pulled her into his arms and kissed her soundly.

RSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRS

Sasha got out of the limo in front of the Maryushka Restaurant in Brighton Beach just in time for her shift. Ramon stepped out on the curb with her, and pulled her back to him for a searing kiss, grabbing her ass and grinding against her, putting on a show for whoever might be watching, and knowing that their little PDA would be the talk of the neighborhood. Brighton Beach was nothing more than a Russian version of the Burg and both Ranger and Steph decided to use that to their advantage.

The cold winter wind off the ocean howled down the street and Sasha pulled her lightweight leather jacket a little tighter around her and shivered. She looked up at Ramon flirtatiously, and pulled off the white silk scarf he wore under his cashmere top coat, wrapping it around her own neck. He shook his head at her, tucking the ends of the scarf inside her jacket, brushing the backs of his fingers over her breasts before he bent and kissed her possessively one last time.

Sasha stood on the curb and waved as the limo pulled out into traffic, (holding the scarf to her face, breathing in his scent.) She watched until the car turned the corner and glided out of sight. As she turned to walk into the restaurant, she saw Yuri watching from the upstairs dining room window, a look of cold fury on his face. She shivered again, but this time it wasn't from the cold.

The next day a large white box tied with a huge red bow was delivered to the restaurant for her. Yuri had signed for it and watched her as she opened it in his office. Inside was a card from Ramon, and under a swath of tissue paper was a long leather coat, lined in the softest fur, matching gloves and a fur hat, like the Russian women in Brighton Beach wore in the winter. She excitedly showed off her gifts to the waitresses and kitchen staff, who ohh-ed and ahh-ed over the expensive clothing, telling her what a lucky girl she was to find such a thoughtful and generous man.

Yuri said nothing, but while she was in the restaurant, his eyes never left her. He was always polite and she played the perfect employee. He found a string of new duties for her that would keep her close to him. They inventoried stock, went over order forms, taste-tested new recipes the chef tried out, and approved table arrangements. As the days went by, she spent less time on the floor as a waitress and more time doing things that would keep her shoulder to shoulder with Yuri.

Every few days Ramon had another gift delivered, winter boots, perfume, jewelry, sexy lingerie. Each box was opened in Yuri's office. Sasha used every gift as an opportunity to torment Yuri to the fullest possible extent. She kicked off her shoes and slid her long legs into the high heeled boots Ramon had sent, and then had Yuri help her zip them up the inside of her legs. Lifting her skirt, she practically pranced around his office, admiring her new footwear. Yuri sat silently behind his desk, looking like he had forgotten how to breathe.

She stood close to Yuri and turned her back, brushing her ass against him, and lifted her hair so that he could fasten a necklace, Ramon's next gift, around her neck. The diamond pendant lay between her breasts and she leaned over and gave Yuri an eye-popping view. The perfume was easy. She dabbed it on her wrists and neck and in her cleavage, then tossed back her hair and tipped her head, offering Yuri her neck so he could smell it. The lingerie almost pushed him over the edge. The black satin bustier with tiny pink rosebuds, tiny lace panties, garter belt and thigh high, seamed black stockings had him practically panting. Sasha held up the bustier, molding it against herself, then sashayed over for him to feel the fabric, and she congratulated herself when she realized that his hands shaking violently.

"If you were my woman, Sasha, I would buy you these things," Yuri told her. "And I'm much better looking than Ramon, don't you think?" He reached out and ran his hand over her shoulder.

She flashed him her brightest smile, ran the tip of her tongue over her lips and went into her sex kitten routine. She had practiced it on Max and finally had managed to get through the coy smiles and flirty glances without cracking up. Now she stood in front of Yuri and 'walked' two fingers up the front of his shirt.

"Oh Yuri, I know you would try. But I don't think that you have anywhere near as much money to spend on me as Ramon does. I want a man who thinks only about me and who can give me the best of everything. You have more money tied up in caviar and vodka than you have in your bank account." She shrugged delicately, "I told you before that you couldn't afford me."

"What if I told you that I was working on a deal and very soon I will have more money than you would be able to spend? I will buy you anything you want." He took a step closer to her and smiled down at her.

"I like you, Yuri, really I do. But you know that Ramon is very possessive. He told me what he would do to any man who so much as looked at me. If he knew you were talking to me like this, well, I would hate to see him cut you up like that. Then your handsome face would look like his." Yuri paled visibly and sat down heavily at his desk.

"Ramon won't always be around. One day he won't be able to push people around and there will be a new man in charge," he boasted. Yuri gave her a crafty smile, "I'll have all his power, and his money, and his woman!" He barked out a cold, nasty laugh.

"Why don't you let me know when that's going to happen so I'll have time to plan a private celebration just for you and me? I promise you that it will absolutely blow you away!" She leaned over and gave him a chaste kiss on the cheek, then left his office taking her latest treasure with her, more than pleased with the thought that her plan was working.

RSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRS

"You are one cold hearted woman," Max said to her when she got back to her apartment that night. They had gotten to be really good friends living together in the close quarters of her tiny apartment. "You have that poor schmuck sniffing after you like you're the last woman on the face of the earth. I'm surprised that you don't have a leash and collar on him and that he doesn't sit and heel for you." He shook his head. "You already have him sitting up and begging!"

She had been holding out a 'to go' box from the restaurant with his dinner in it, but she snatched it back out of his hands. "And the only thing I really want is for him to roll over and play dead," she snapped. "Don't you dare tell me you feel sorry for that rat bastard!" Steph said, hand on hip. "Do you know who he is? You should see what he does to his girlfriends. No woman deserves to be used as his punching bag or to be whored out to his friends. I can't do anything bad enough to that ass wipe, I'm just treating him like the dog he is! He's earned everything that happens to him, and then some!" she was on a roll. "He's into prostitution and kidnapping and extortion and blackmail and …"

"Whoa, whoa … Jeez woman! You have no sense of humor," Max held his hands up in mock surrender and made a grab for the food.

"You were teasing? You brat!" and she hauled off and smacked him on the arm as he grabbed the box away from her and held it up over his head so she couldn't reach it.

"Owwww! Just for that you sleep on the floor tonight and I'll take the bed!" he whined.

"Oh I don't think so, Buster!" and she raced him for the bed and they landed on it in a laughing heap, spending the rest of the night talking about what else she could do to make Yuri crack.

Steph was standing in her tiny bathroom contemplating taking a 'speed of light' shower. No matter how many times she adjusted the water, the damned thing always seemed to know just when she was going to get in and would suddenly turn cold. She finally decided to wait until the morning when there would be at least a little heat in the building. She would never again take hot water for granted, she vowed, and promised herself that one of the first things she would do when she got home was to stand in the shower until she used up every ounce of hot water in her sixty gallon tank. The thought of hot water made her a little homesick.

Steph climbed into her flannel jammies, put on heavy socks and brushed her teeth before she stepped out of the bathroom. "Okay, the bathroom is all yours but the water is colde …" she stopped when Max held up his hand in a classic 'stop' gesture.

He was sitting at the tiny table, headphones on, listening to the live feed from the restaurant. His face was pale and as he listened he rubbed his hand across his forehead. "What?" she whispered, but he held up his hand again. He made furious notes in the folder he kept on the table next to him. Finally, he took off the earphones and turned to her, consulting his notes.

"The merchandise made it safely out of Russia, across the Black Sea to Turkey and into Africa. It traveled from Nigeria to Libya to Rwanda and a few other countries on what international drug agencies consider to be the normal drug shipping routes. Nobody paid much attention to it because no drugs were ever found, so it was always cleared to continue its travels. Yesterday, the merchandise was put on a container ship that'll be sailing out of Somalia for New Orleans in a couple of days. There's no word on how long that trip'll take. I guess it depends on how many ports the ship stops in."

Steph nodded her head. "Okay, but why do I have a feeling that there's something you're not telling me?"

Max leaned back in his chair and scrubbed his hands over his face. "I found out what 'the merchandise' is, and it scares the shit outta me."

She took a step closer to him. "Do I want to know? Ranger and Hector never said, and I actually kept my mouth shut about it. I was afraid if I badgered them, they'd lock me up someplace." She took another step closer, "So what is it? Come on, Max, you're scaring me!"

He took a deep breath. "It's plutonium, Steph. These bastards are importing weapons grade plutonium into America. No wonder the Feds are rabid to find out who the buyer is."

Stephanie sat on the edge of the bed and looked at Max. "And no wonder Ranger is so willing to risk his life. I mean, I knew it had to be something big, I just never thought it would be anything like this." They sat in silence, digesting the information. "It couldn't have any other use … than to build …" she took a deep breath, "bombs … could it?" She looked at him hopefully, but her heart fell when he shook his head.

They were both so lost in their own thoughts that neither one of them heard the hurried footsteps approaching the door and they were both taken by surprise when someone started to bang on the door. Max hurriedly closed up his surveillance equipment and stashed it under the bed while Steph sneaked a look through the peephole in the door. She turned to him and mouthed, 'Yuri.' Max grabbed his jacket and climbed out the window onto the fire escape, Steph closing the window behind him. Yuri banged on the door again.

"Who is it?" she called, looking around to make sure there was nothing of Max's lying around before she dashed into the bathroom and grabbed her dental appliances and slipped them in her mouth. She said a silent prayer of thanks that he hadn't taken out her contacts yet.

"Open the door, Sasha. I need to talk to you." Yuri sounded like a small child on Christmas morning.

She wrapped her hair in the towel and grabbed her Beretta from her purse, then opened the door leaving the security chain in place.

"Yuri, do you know what time it is? What do you want?"

"Let me in, I have good news!" Yuri was practically dancing in the hallway.

"You know I can't let you in, Ramon is having me watched! He'd kill us both!" She whispered.

"Soon, you won't have to worry about him anymore. One of his own men is turning against him and wants to get rid of him." Yuri was wearing his 'snake smile.'

Stephanie's heart stuttered in her chest and she couldn't quite take a deep breath. She plastered a fake smile on her face and fought the little black spot that danced in front of her eyes.

"Really? Who is it?" she asked wide eyed. "Oh please tell me," she wheedled in her little girl voice. "I'm just dying to know! I thought they were all loyal to him … or at least scared to death of him," she giggled.

Yuri narrowed his eyes at Sasha. "What is it worth to you to know?" he asked, his voice husky and low.

She bit her lip then looked up at him through her lashes. "I'll give you a kiss … but just one!" She held up her index finger.

He smiled and nodded in agreement as Steph closed the door and laid her gun on top of the dresser, covering it with a bath towel. She blew out a deep breath and plastered on that smile again, then slid off the chain and opened the door to him.

With the speed of a striking snake, Yuri grabbed her, crushing her to him. One hand twisted in her hair while the other hand found its way under her pajama top and he squeezed her breast roughly. His mouth came down on hers and she shuddered when he forced his tongue into her mouth.

He must have thought her reaction was lust, not disgust, because when he finally broke the kiss, he held her tightly and whispered, "I can't wait for us to be together either, ljubimec."

She played with a button on the front of his shirt. "You owe me an answer, Yuri," she wheedled again.

He laughed, "I can see why Ramon can't deny you anything. Very well, the traitor in Ramon's organization is …" He bent his head and whispered the name in her ear. Her gasp of disbelief went unheard as his mouth came down on hers again.

RSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRS

Twenty-five hundred miles away from the Brighton Beach, in the Doctor's locker room of a Federal mental health facility, Doctor David Mortimer tied his cross trainers and pulled up the hood on his sweatshirt, tucking the towel around his neck to collect the sweat that would drip from his daily five mile run despite the cold wind that constantly blew in this God forsaken part of the country. He made sure his ID was around his neck, then put on his sunglasses and gloves and pushed open the exit door.

He had only been here a few weeks, doing research for his doctoral thesis on sociopathic behavior. He was already an M.D. and had specialized in Psychiatry. Now he was headed for a lucrative career as a best-selling author. He'd had it all planned out from the time he was a freshman in college. Work hard now, and then spend the rest of his life writing true life crime books, get paid big bucks to be an expert witness in high profile trials, and win world-wide recognition as a commentator on Court TV and all the major networks. Then all he'd have to do was sit back and enjoy a life of fame and fortune.

He did his preliminary stretching out in the fenced walkway, under the watchful eye of the armed guards in the towers. This facility housed the sickest and most perverted minds ever arrested in America. As far as Dr. Mortimer was concerned, these men didn't even qualify as human beings and should have been disposed of as soon as they were convicted of their deviant crimes. He looked at these prisoners and felt nothing for any of them, not even for their victims, for that matter. He looked at them and only saw dollar signs. These men would provide him with the salacious details of the crimes that would fill the best sellers that he'd write. His books would be eaten up by a public, curious to look into the depraved minds of these perverts, the books that would make him rich.

He finished his stretching and with a wave to the guard in the tower who pressed a button that opened the door to the freedom of the outside world, Dr. Mortimer took off through the gate and past the parking lot, into the bleak hills that surrounded the prison.

From a window on the second floor, a prisoner watched from his cell. Dr. Mortimer, the prisoner had come to realize, was a creature of habit. And those habits would serve Ramon Escobar very well. He could already taste his freedom.

_**Ranger and Stephanie were friends and lovers and partners.**_

_**They were three weeks, five days, sixteen hours, and fifty-one minutes into her plan to save him.**_

_**TBC…**_

_**A/N: Will Stephanie be able to handle Yuri? Or has she finally bitten off more than she can chew? Will Max be able to help her? And who do you think is the traitor in Ramon's organization? And last but not least, who the heck is Doctor David Mortimer and what does he have to do with this whole story? Please let me know what you think!**_

_**I apologize for not responding to each review last week. I blame it on being overwhelmed by the holiday and having a house full of company and trying to decorate for Christmas … I'm in deep denial about the holidays, they seem to sneak up on me every year … sigh You'd think I'd learn … Please believe me when I say that each review, good, bad, or ugly, is precious to me. Thank you all!**_

_**Stayce**_


	36. Minefield!

_**Disclaimer: Everyone belongs to Janet Evanovich except the ones that are mine, and I'm just playing.**_

_**Warnings: All 12 books.**_

_**A/N: Special thanks to my Dream Team: Super Karen my fabulous Editor, Luisa, Brain Stormer and Translator Extraordinario, and Lindsay my Voice of Reason, Lisa for making me laugh, and all the BC & PP & BCRUS Babes for support, friendship, suggestions, hand holding, cheer leading and general ass kicking. I love you all!**_

_**Thank you to all of you wonderful readers and reviewers! I've tried to answer each and every review that you've sent. You've all made my Inner Review Slut very happy!**_

_**Don't forget to read Kashy's fabulous 'Keep The Faith' … you don't want to miss it! Read and review them please, you'll be glad you did! **_

_**The Name Of The Game!**_

_**By Stayce (XJerseyGirl)**_

_**Chapter 36: Minefield!**_

Stephanie pulled out of Yuri's arms and stumbled back across the room, putting some much needed space between them. She turned her back on him and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, unable to suppress the shudder that went through her. He had shoved his tongue halfway down her throat and now he just stood there, laughing at her.

She gritted her teeth and fought against the overwhelming urge to kick him in the balls, pep talking herself into finally admitting that she had to restrain herself, especially if she wanted to get any information out of him. She knew that now wasn't the time to get even, but she really owed him one, and someday … someday, she was going to make sure he collected!

It took a few long seconds to control her gag reflex and she distracted herself by wrapping her robe tightly around her body and tying the belt securely with a double knot. Taking a deep breath, she turned to glare at him, forcing herself to play the game.

"I said one kiss, Yuri" she spat at him. "And I know you can count. You cheated and I don't like cheaters," she said petulantly, as she folded her arms over her chest and put on a pouty face. She tapped her toe in irritation, "I think you should leave now."

"Oh ljubimec, I didn't cheat," he said with a cocky smile, "I told you, a name for a kiss." He leaned against the doorframe and smirked at her, obviously proud of how clever he thought he was. "I just didn't tell you how many names there were."

As the full meaning of his words hit her, Stephanie swallowed against the bile that rose in her throat and gaped at him in surprise. She had been so relieved when he had whispered the name of the traitor to her… Che. Che was Hector and he was pretending to betray Ramon to try to find out when and how the Russians planned on carrying out their double cross.

But this, this was different, whoever this was, he was a real threat. She finally found her voice and choked out, "Oh my God, Yuri! You mean there's more than one?"

Yuri gave her a nod and a pleased-with-himself smile, "Oh yes," he said proudly, "I worked real hard to find out which men in Ramon's inner circle were fed up with him being a control freak. There are a couple who can't wait to take care of that problem. As soon as we're sure we don't need him anymore…" he made a cutting motion across his throat.

Steph froze as her brain went into overdrive. One traitor in the group would be bad enough, but the possibility of more of them, all conspiring against Ramon, was terrifying. Ranger was risking everything for this mission, had given up everything; he had become so immersed in Ramon that he had almost lost himself. It was ironic that we were all so worried that Ramon's men would find out that Ranger was an impersonator. Now, the fact that he had fooled them all was what would sign his death warrant.

She forced herself out of her stupor. "Come on, tell me who it is!" Steph wheedled. "No more teasing. I _HATE _being teased." She stamped her foot and planted her fists on her hips, glaring at him. "You had your kiss, now you have to give me the name."

He smiled at her and shook his head indulgently, "Alright Sasha, I can't refuse you anything. It's Manny Hernandez. Do you know who he is?"

She stared at him, openmouthed. "Of course I do!"

Tank had filled her in on Hernandez. Manny was one of Ramon's most trusted advisors, one of his trusted inner circle. Hernandez was in charge of the transportation crew. They were the guys that took care of all the international shipping for Ramon's organization. Manny and Ramon had developed a network of connections that allowed them to move anything to anywhere on earth with a single phone call. A huge part of Ramon's entire operation depended on Hernandez and although Manny worked for Ramon, the transportation crew worked for Manny. If Manny ordered a hit on Ramon, Ranger was a dead man.

Her heart stuttered in her chest. She knew that she'd have to handle Yuri very carefully and that she'd have to be very, very convincing and be just as good an actor as Ranger had turned out to be. Yuri was an ass and his Achilles heel was his ego. She needed to play on that inflated ego, to flirt and flatter him, lead him on, to let him brag and preen and act like he was impressing her until she got everything she could out of him.

It suddenly struck her that she was in as dangerous a position as Ranger was. She couldn't afford to take one false step or she'd bring all their plans crashing down around their ears … and probably wind up dead herself. If she was smart she'd pack her bags and run back to Trenton and safety as fast as she could … but this was what she had stayed in Brighton Beach for … and she wasn't going anywhere … not without Ranger.

She swallowed hard and plastered a smile on her face. "Oh Yuri, I don't believe it!" she gushed as she crossed the room to him and grabbed his arm. "Hernandez is an important man and Ramon depends on him. How did you get him to agree to work with you? What did you say to him that made him willing to stab Ramon in the back? You must have made him one hell of an offer!" She looked up at him like she thought he was the smartest guy on the planet.

When Yuri puffed out his chest Stephanie knew she had him hooked. "He said that he was tired of doing all the dirty work and only getting a cut of the take." Yuri shrugged nonchalantly, "I offered him three times what Ramon was going to pay him for this job and told him that once we got rid of Ramon, he'd have a full partnership. Money buys loyalty, Little One, and I don't mind paying for it. I think that Manny and I will have a very lucrative working relationship when I take over Ramon's organization."

He wrapped his hand around the back of her neck and pulled her toward him, "I told you that soon I would be a very rich man. I'll be rich and important and powerful… _and _I'll be able to afford you!"

He bent his head to kiss her, but she straight armed him, with her hands flat on his chest, holding him off. She looked at him through narrowed eyes. "Wait a minute, Yuri, all this sounds a little too good to be true!" she said suspiciously. "It's going to take a lot more than a few empty promises that someday you're gonna be rich and powerful for me to believe you. You're telling me that you're just gonna get rid of Ramon and take over his worldwide operation? Why should I believe you? How do I know it's the truth? You're gonna have to prove it!"

His smile faded as he looked down at her, and anger flashed across his face as his fingers curled tightly into her shoulders. "I don't think that you're in any position to make demands, Sasha." He ran his hands along her shoulders to her throat and wrapped them around her neck. He tightened his grip just enough to let her know he was serious and gave her a sharp shake. He didn't really hurt her, but Stephanie knew it was a warning.

Yuri got off on beating up people, especially women, everybody knew it. He had a steady stream of girlfriends in Brighton Beach who paraded through the restaurant, sporting the fur coats and jewelry and black eyes and split lips that he had given them. He may be a jackass where his ego was concerned, but he was a very dangerous jackass, and Stephanie realized that she was pushing her luck.

Out of the corner of her eye she caught a small movement out on the fire escape. Max, was crouching there, watching them through the window, gun in hand. Stephanie might have been more cautious if she had been all alone, but knowing that Max was covering her gave her courage a boost.

"I'm not making demands, Yuri. But a girl's gotta look out for herself. How do I know that you're telling me the truth and not just making this all up so that you can get into my bed?"

He studied her for a minute, finally relenting and loosening his grip when he saw that she wasn't intimidated by him. He gave her his snake smile and ran his hands over her shoulders and down her arms. "So, how am I supposed to prove it to you now? I don't have a body to show you … yet!"

Stephanie chewed her lip, trying to look like she was thinking about how to answer. She gave a little gasp, like she had gotten an idea and let a slow, sly smile spread across her face. She tipped her head to the side, moving closer to Yuri and molded her body against his. Reaching out to play with a button on his shirt as she ran the tip of her tongue over her lips, she looked up at him through her eyelashes as she slid her arms around his waist.

"I know how," she whispered. "You have to tell me the whole plan, when it's going to happen, where you'll do it, how you're going to kill him. I want to know everything." She made her breathing sound ragged and she licked her lips again, "You have no idea how it excites me … thinking about you killing a man like Ramon? You don't know how much that turns me on!"

Yuri looked down at her in surprise, then a slow evil smile spread over his face. "I underestimated you, Sasha. You look like this sweet, sexy, little girl but you really are a bloodthirsty little thing, aren't you? I'll bet you'd like to pull the trigger yourself, wouldn't you?"

She looked up into his eyes, praying that her true feelings weren't written all over her face. "Is that how you're gonna do it? Shoot him?" she said breathlessly. "And you're right … you have no idea how much I wish I had a gun in my hands right now!" she said truthfully.

He laughed and leaned down to whisper in her ear, "Do you want all the gory details or do you want me to take pictures?" he nipped her ear lobe. "Maybe you want me to bring you a souvenir? What will it be? His finger, an ear, that ponytail of his?"

She shook her head, "No! I want the signet ring he wears. When you put that ring on my finger, Yuri, I'll be all yours for the taking. And Yuri … I like being taken." She fisted her hand in his hair, pulled his head down and kissed him long and hard, biting his lower lip until she tasted blood. Yeah, she thought, she was getting to be a really good actress. She deserved an Oscar for this one!

She broke the kiss and moved toward the door, intending to get rid of him. When Yuri didn't move, she realized he had other plans. He leered down at her and grabbed her by the collar of her robe, trying to back her across the small room toward her bed. "I think I should tell you about the whole plan right now. I'll give you all the details you want."

Fear suddenly coiled in the pit of her stomach. She had poked the tiger once too often, and now he was ready to bite. Yuri's lips were curled back from his teeth and his icy blue eyes were darkened with lust as he put his hands on her shoulders and gave her a hard shove. She staggered backwards, falling onto the bed. He was on her immediately, leaning over her, tearing at her clothes while he tried to force his knee between her legs.

He pinned her onto the bed by his weight and bent down, trying to kiss her but she turned her head and twisted her face away from him. "Come on, Sasha, give me a little taste of what Ramon gets." His mouth settled on her neck, kissing and licking. Finally getting a hand free, she reached out for something, anything to use against him and found the small alarm clock on the night stand. Wrapping her fingers around it, she brought it down on the back of his head as hard as she could.

With a howl of pain and a string of curses, Yuri pulled back, straddling her, and raised his hand to slap her. She crossed her arms over her face defensively. "Are you crazy? Leave a mark on me and Ramon will kill you with his bare hands!"

Yuri stilled, slowly lowering his hand. He didn't get off of her, just stayed there, rubbing the back of his head and staring down at her.

"I'm not taking any chances," she told him, uncovering her face. "He calls me every night and I told you that he's having me watched. He probably has some of his men following you, too! If they saw you come in and you stay here too long, Ramon'll know what's going on and we'll both be dead! You know how jealous he is!"

Yuri hesitated and she barreled on, saying anything that came into her head to get him off her. "The other night one of Ramon's flunkies put his hand on my ass and Ramon went ballistic … sliced him up bad. Nobody's seen the kid since and I think he's probably in a landfill someplace."

Yuri slid off of her and Steph got up, wrapping her arms around herself. She faked a shudder, laying it on as thick as she dared. "I tried to cover for him, I mean he was just a kid. But Ramon knew I was lying and he said if I ever cheated on him, he'd cut my face up so bad, I'd make him look handsome. I'm not taking any chances and you shouldn't either, Ramon already hates you because of the way you look at me! Ramon's real possessive, you know."

Yuri stood up and followed her across the room, still not saying anything. Steph held her breath, hoping her story had worked. Yuri was clearly terrified of Ramon's skill with a knife. Ever since Che had told him the story about Ramon cutting a man's heart out so fast he held it in his hand while it was still beating, Yuri had been scared to death of him.

Now he stiffened and stepped back from her, giving her a small, tight smile, "Once Ramon is out of the way, we'll have plenty of time together. We need to be careful now so you'll just have to be patient a little while longer, sweetheart. Then I'll make you a very happy woman!" His weak attempt at false bravado almost made her laugh.

She tried to act disappointed and gave him a sad nod, "You're absolutely right, Yuri. We can't afford to take any chances. Not now that you're so close to getting everything that you want. You wouldn't want to wake up one morning and find yourself gutted like a fish."

Yuri turned and headed for the door, wrestling with the sticky lock as he tried to get it open. As if on cue, her cell phone rang. She picked it up off the table and looked at the caller ID, mouthing 'Ramon' to Yuri.

She flipped the phone open, "Hello, Lover," she purred into the phone.

"Get him the hell out of there; I'm freezing to death out here, it's sleeting and I'm starting to look like an ice sculpture!" She could hear Max's teeth chattering.

"Honestly, Ramon, nothing is going on. Yuri stopped by to give me the new work schedule and we were just talking about … um … about the new menu." She turned to Yuri, trying to look wide-eyed and scared.

"I can't feel my feet and I'm getting frostbite! Hurry up, and get rid of him, I need to get inside and thaw out now! I've got icicles hanging off body parts that are near and dear to me," Max hissed.

"Ramon, you know I love you … No! Nothing's going on. Please believe me … He's just leaving … do you want to talk to him? Okay … here he is …"

She held out the phone to Yuri who took one look at it and shook his head, 'No'. He turned an odd shade of green as he fumbled with the doorknob in his haste to get out of there.

Stephanie watched as he practically sped down the hall to the stairway and flew down the steps, slipping and almost falling on his ass on the landing. She leaned over the railing and listened to his footsteps pounding down the last flight and the sound of the creaky old front door being pulled open, then slamming shut. She could hear a car start in front of the building and heard honking horns as it squealed away from the curb.

Flying back into her apartment, she closed and locked the door, then ran to the window and wrestled it open, pulling a half frozen Max back into the room. He slumped against the wall, shivering uncontrollably, while she pried his cell phone and gun out of his frozen fingers and then stripped off his ice covered jacket.

He toed off his boots and let her pull his t-shirt over his head, using it to wipe off the icicles that clung to his hair and face. He collapsed onto the bed where she wrapped him in her electric blanket, turning up the dial up to the highest setting. As she reached under the blanket to open his jeans and tug the wet denim off of his long legs, she wondered if he went commando like the rest of the Merry Men.

"Yeah," he said through chattering teeth, "we all go commando." He curled up in a ball and wrapped the blanket more tightly around himself.

Stephanie shot him a death glare. "How do you _do_ that?" she snarked, as she filled a kettle with water and put it on the hot plate. "Is it a RangeMan thing or a Merry Man thing or a guy thing?" She slammed a mug down on the table and dropped a tea bag into it. "How come everybody can do that but me?"

He smiled at her, "Tricks of the trade, Steph."

"Yeah, well it's not fair. I was in the trade and I never learned that trick!" She grumbled as she poured the boiling water into the mug, added sugar and gave it a stir.

She carried the mug carefully, balancing it as she sat on the edge of the bed. Max had pulled the comforter up over himself and now he was cocooned under the covers with only his face showing. The electric blanket had helped to reduce his chills, but he was still shivering and looked miserable.

Steph uncovered his head and helped him to sit up, wrapping the blankets around him. She held out the cup for him to take a sip. By the time he finished half the mug, he was able to hold it himself without spilling it.

"Did you hear any of what Yuri was saying?" she asked Max as she pulled her cell phone out of her pocket and dialed.

"I heard enough. You really like playing with fire, don't you? If you're not careful, you're gonna get yourself dead and that'll seriously piss off Ranger."

Steph gave him a shrug and a small smile. "I don't see that I have any choice, Max. I can't sit around with my hands in my lap just waiting to see if Ranger makes it out alive. Not when I could be doing something to help him." She sighed as she waited for Che to answer his cell.

"Hola Chiquita!" Hector's voice boomed through the phone. He sounded more than a little drunk and Stephanie could hear laughter and loud music in the background. She pushed the speaker phone button and laid the phone on the bed next to Max.

"I have some information," she said softly.

"You're missing a great party! I miss you Dulce, I wanna sink my teeth into that sweet little ass of yours." He roared with laughter and Stephanie and Max raised their eyebrows at each other. "Hold on, Baby. I can't hear you, too much noise in here. Let me get outside."

She heard him tell somebody that he'd be right back, and listened as the noise faded into the background. "Okay Steph," Che finally said, "What have you got?"

"I've got a name … Manny Hernandez."

"Shit! That's means we have to worry about his whole crew, too. Were you able to find out anything about the timeline?" Hector's voice had a hard edge to it.

"Yuri said that Ramon would be dead in a week or so. Once they were sure that they didn't need him anymore."

Hector was silent for a moment. "Okay, listen, you and Max need to get out of there and back to Trenton right away. You can't be in Brighton Beach when this goes down, Steph. There's too much chance that they'll find out that you were involved and try to use you against Ranger."

She grabbed the phone, turned off the speaker and got up off the bed, pacing the small room.

Stephanie took a deep breath and blew it out. "I can't leave yet. I have to find out if there are any others. And I know I can get Yuri to tell me when and where and how they plan on carrying out this assassination. The man can't wait to spill his guts. The more information I can get for you, the better prepared you'll be."

"Stephanie… Do I need to call Tank and have him drag you back to Trenton in cuffs?" There was a hint of a threat in his voice.

She turned her back to Max and cautiously took her stun gun out of her purse, slipping it into the pocket of her robe.

She lowered her voice so that Max wouldn't hear. "Hector … I'm not leaving, that's all there is to it. If you try to force this, I'll zap Max here and take off. I did it to Hal, I can and _will _do it to him, too." She waited a couple of seconds so that he would know that she was serious. "Look, I promise you that I'll be careful and I won't take any unnecessary chances. Max will follow me everywhere I go and I even promise that I'll be dressed all the time. I'm so close, please Hector, you know I'm right. Please just give me one more week?"

He was silent for so long that Steph checked the phone to see if he had disconnected. "Alright. One more week … that's it! You got me? If you and Max aren't back in Trenton, so help me God, Stephanie…"

She didn't give him a chance to finish. "Don't worry! I promise I'll be careful and I'll call you to check in every day. Hector …" she hesitated, almost afraid to ask, "How is he? Is he okay?"

He gave a heavy sigh, "He's doing his job, Steph. He's doing what he was trained to do."

She felt tears sting her eyes, "If you have the chance, tell him I love him." Her voice sounded small and far away to her own ears.

Stephanie closed the phone and looked up at Max. "We have a week and then we have to hightail it back to Trenton."

She turned away from him again and swiped at the tears that threatened to roll down her cheeks, determined not to cry, not to let Max see any weakness. When she turned back around, he was studying her.

"How are you feeling, warmed up yet? You want another cup of tea?" She tried for a smile.

He shook his head 'no.' "No, I'll be fine after I get some sleep." He struggled to get up off of the bed. "Let me get the air mattress and blow it up."

"That's okay, I'll sleep on the floor tonight … you take the bed."

"We could share?" He gave her a boyish grin.

Steph rolled her eyes. "I'm not getting into bed with a naked man!"

"They teach us in survival training that skin to skin contact is the best way to share body heat," he said innocently.

She groaned loudly, "I don't know how I could ever have doubted that you were a Merry Man. Are you sure you're not related to Lester Santos?"

Rooting around in his duffle bag, she pulled out sweats and socks and tossed them to him, turning her back while he put them on. After checking the flimsy locks on the door, she wedged one of the chairs under the knob, and took her gun off the dresser, placing it on the night table next to Max's.

Max was lying on his side with his back to her as she wrapped her robe tightly around herself and started to get into bed.

"Don't forget that stun gun," he said with a yawn. "You wouldn't want to zap yourself in your sleep. And don't even think about using it on me. I know all about Hal, we all learn about that little stunt in mandatory 'Bombshell Training."

She stared at him, open mouthed, finally realizing that he had seen her put it in her pocket. She wasn't as slick as she thought she was after all, she decided. He still had his back to her, but she could see his shoulders shaking with laughter. Plunking the stun gun down on the table she climbed into bed and punched her pillow a couple of times before she finally lay down.

"Bombshell Training?" she asked sarcastically.

"Ohhhhh yeah!" was all he said.

They lay there for long time, neither able to sleep. Her thoughts were wrapped around Ranger, missing him, wishing she were lying next to him, wrapped in his arms. She couldn't help but wonder if they would ever share those moments again, if she'd ever feel his heart beat against hers, his breath against her skin. Tears gathered in her eyes and slid down her cheeks onto the pillow.

"Steph?"

"Um.."

"How far are you prepared to go with Yuri to get the information out of him?"

Her stomach flip-flopped sickeningly at the realization that she was willing to do whatever it took, let Yuri do whatever he wanted, no matter what it was. It was a small price to pay for Ranger's life. She'd worry about asking for forgiveness later.

RSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRS

The Cummings Federal Mental Health Unit, located in the desolate high desert country of the Pacific coast, had the tightest security of any Federal detention center in the nation. It housed the sickest, most violent and twisted minds, guilty of the most horrific crimes of the twentieth and twenty-first centuries.

These men were held in their cells, in lock down, for twenty-three out of the twenty-four hours in each day. Three armed guards, with a shoot first - ask questions later mentality, would cuff and shackle the prisoners whenever they left their one man cells. No one visited these inmates, save an occasional reporter looking for a story, not just because of the remote location, but because these were men best forgotten by the world. Their perversions, not their personalities, were what would be remembered about them.

Except for occasional meetings with lawyers or doctors, they sat behind locked doors, plotting escapes, planning revenge, dreaming of their past and future crimes. Their every movement was monitored by security cameras inside their cells and out. Guards, armed with automatic weapons and teargas, walked the catwalks above the cells, ever mindful of how lethal these overly medicated prisoners really were.

Housed in another wing of the facility were prisoners that, for various reasons, the government just wanted to disappear from the public eye for awhile. These men were 'lost' in the system, no record of any of them could be found anywhere. Under the watchful eyes of the guards walking over their heads, these men acted as trustees, delivering mail, food, and books through small slots in the doors in the psychiatric ward cells. During the hour each prisoner was allowed out of their cell for showers or exercise out in the yard, the trustees collected and delivered laundry and bedding from the cells, picked up trash and performed a variety of maintenance and cleaning duties.

Their freedom to roam the prison made the Trustees the envy of the other inmates. They acted as go betweens, delivering messages, gossip, and information between the lock down prisoners, for a price, of course. As in any other prison, there was a lucrative black market business going on … trading for drugs, cigarettes, magazines, all sorts of contraband. The trustees picked up and delivered the bartered items, a practice largely overlooked by the guards who were only concerned with getting their cut of the profits and making it out of the prison alive at the end of their shift.

Doctor David Mortimer sat in his office, reading over the psychiatric case history of the one inmate whose story would turn David Mortimer into a household name. While there were any number of potential candidates housed here that would qualify for the role, the more he read, the more certain the good doctor was that he had found his ticket to fame and fortune.

Samuel Pardue Smith was as crazy as a loon, mad as a hatter, nutty as a fruitcake. A sexual sadist and a true sociopath, every cliché about the insane had been written with him in mind, and he would be the star of Dr. Mortimer's first true life crime novel.

Smith was one of the most prolific serial killers in recent history. He had committed some of the most horrendous crimes ever to be splashed across front pages of the nations' newspapers and magazines. He had single-handedly kept the country in a constant state of terror during the ten horrific months that he had left a trail of rape and torture, murder and mayhem across twenty-one states.

The more David Mortimer read, the faster his hard mercenary heart beat in his chest, visions of dollar signs dancing before his eyes. The file contained the stuff of a New York Times bestseller, and he could see his name in the number one spot on the top of the list.

Dr. Mortimer practically laughed out loud when he read the attending psychiatrist's hand written notes on Smith's current treatment. Smith was keeping a written record of his entire life, a journal, from his earliest memories, to his childhood, to his family, to what he had for dinner last night. Smith had documented the making of a serial killer. Everything was right there … all the horrific details of his crimes, from how he chose his victims to his physical reactions to his dreams and fantasies.

It was practically an outline for a book. Mortimer's mind raced … all he had to do was get his hands on that diary, and half his work was done. He could arrange some cursory interviews with Smith, just turn on a recorder and let the man ramble. It would serve to lend credibility to his research and document his personal interaction with his subject. This time next year Mortimer was sure that he'd be on the TV circuit, interviewed on every morning show, sitting in front of the cameras with Leno and Letterman. He was practically giddy with anticipation.

He was leaned back in his desk chair, hands clasped behind his head, dreaming about how much he could demand for the movie rights to his book. He liked the idea of his name up on the big screen on a movie that would make 'Silence of the Lambs' look like a Disney flick.

Suddenly, a terrible thought wormed its way through his fantasies and hit him like a brick and his blood literally ran cold in his veins. It was as plain as day, Smith's court appointed psychiatrist was planning to do the same thing … to use the journal to write a book! Why else would he have Smith detail his entire life? Shit! He had to get his hands on that journal fast! But how? He couldn't walk into Smith's cell and ask him for it … that would alert Smith's shrink. He needed to steal it …

A soft tap on the door brought him out of his thoughts. A trustee came in and gave him a nod, then emptied the trash can and ran a dust mop over the floor. Watching the man, Dr. Mortimer wondered how he had gotten the horrible scar that sliced through his face, from his forehead, through his eye, to his mouth. An idea formed itself in the doctor's mind.

"Do you do clean up in Samuel Smith's ward?" the doctor asked.

"Yes sir," the trustee answered.

Dr. Mortimer smiled at him. "I have a little proposition for you …"

Later that afternoon, the same Trustee pushed his cleaning cart down the hall to the Doctor's locker room. Doctor Mortimer, stood at the end of the hall, conferring with a colleague, and watched the man. The trustee met the doctor's eyes and gave a small nod, then opened the locker room door and pushed the cart inside. Dr. Mortimer excused himself, and headed off to the locker room to get ready for his daily run.

Although he was a creature of habit and ran the same route at the same time every day, he planned on taking a slight detour today. The Trustee's nod indicated that he had that journal and Dr. Mortimer would run to his car and then drive into the nearest town, fifteen minutes away, to copy it. The journal would be back in Smith's cell in an hour and no one would be any the wiser. He pushed open the locker room door and found the smiling trustee waiting for him.

Dressed in grey sweats and cross trainers, a towel wrapped around his lower face to protect him against the howling winds and the hood of the sweatshirt pulled up over his head, gloves on and sunglasses in place, photo ID around his neck, he pushed open the door to the outside world. Stopping in the fenced walkway, he went through the usual stretching routine in preparation for the ten mile run. Jogging to the gate, he sent a wave to the guard in the tower who automatically opened the electrified gate, just as he did every day.

He beeped open the Lexus and in a few minutes was headed down the highway. Once out of sight of the prison, he pushed the sweatshirt hood back and unwrapped the towel from his face. His plan couldn't have worked any better. With any luck no one would be looking for him for a few more hours, unless they found Dr. Mortimer's body, that is.

Ramon Escobar glanced in the rear view and looked at his reflection in the mirror. He thought about the day he had looked into the face of his double. Now he was a free man, and he was going to find out who was impersonating him and why. He smiled to himself. He was going to have a good time killing that man.

_**Ranger and Stephanie were friends and lovers and partners.**_

_**They were four weeks, two days, nineteen hours, and thirty-three minutes into her plan to save him.**_

_**TBC …**_

_**A/N: Sorry this took so long to post, but real life has been rough. I hope you all had a wonderful Holiday Season! I guess part of it is separation anxiety … I admit it … I'm having a hard time ending Game. But it will end and I'll try to keep on schedule.**_

_**Okay, so now there's another threat to Stephanie and Ranger … What do you think is gonna happen? And just how far will Stephanie go with Yuri to get information? Is it worth it? Let me know what you think!**_

_**Thank you for all your wonderful reviews and questions. I'll try to answer them all.**_

_**Hey Dave! I can't make you rich, and this is as famous as I can manage! Hope you feel better soon!**_

_**Stayce **_


	37. Go!

_**Disclaimer: Everyone belongs to Janet Evanovich except the ones that are mine, and I'm just playing.**_

_**Warnings: Language, Violence, All 12 books.**_

_**A/N: Special thanks to my Dream Team: Super Karen my fabulous Editor, Luisa, Brain Stormer and Translator Extraordinario, and Lindsay my Voice of Reason, Lisa for making me laugh, and all the BC & PP & BCRUS Babes for support, friendship, suggestions, hand holding, cheer leading and general ass kicking. I love you all!**_

_**Thank you to all of you wonderful readers and reviewers! I've tried to answer each and every review that you've sent. You've all made my Inner Review Slut very happy!**_

_**Don't forget to read Kashy's fabulous 'Keep The Faith' … you don't want to miss it! Read and review them please, you'll be glad you did! **_

_**The Name Of The Game!**_

_**By Stayce (XJerseyGirl)**_

_**Chapter 36: Go!**_

Stephanie and Max were sitting at her tiny kitchen table, drinking their morning coffee and arguing playfully over which one of them would get to take their barely warm shower first. As she expected, Max had offered to share body heat with her via skin to skin contact ... again, complete with a leer and waggling eyebrows. It had become their running joke and he had found an unlimited number of instances that would require them to get naked. Steph was grateful for the comic relief he provided in these stress filled days. It allowed them to relax and laugh a little.

They both froze in mid laugh at the first ring of her satellite phone, turning to look at it sitting on top of the dresser like it had grown fangs and fur. Both of them knew that it could only be Tank or Hector, and it could only be bad news since neither one of them would just call to chat. It took a second ring before Steph made a grab for it. She realized that her hands were shaking when she pressed the talk button and reluctantly raised the phone to her ear, afraid to hear whatever it was that they were going to tell her.

"Morning, Bombshell," Tank's weary voice said. "I'm in the conference room with the Team and I have you on speaker phone." All the guys called greetings to her.

"Hey guys! Max is right here." She cut right to the chase, "What's wrong?" She hit the speaker button and put the phone down on the table, standing behind her chair, gripping the back of it with icy fingers.

They heard Tank heave a sigh. "We picked up some information that we're obviously not supposed to have. Luckily, one of the feebs has loose lips. Otherwise ..." He didn't have to say that it was information that none of the Federal agencies would have freely given them, his tone told her that. "It needs to be passed on quickly, Steph … It's vital."

The tension in his voice made her heart drop and a knot form in her stomach. "Okay … Tell me."

"Ramon Escobar, the _real_ Ramon Escobar, escaped from prison. He's already been on the loose for more than five days, and Steph," Tank hesitated, "the Feds don't have any idea where he is.

"Oh God!" she murmured, and staggered slightly, little black spots dancing across her field of vision. Max took her by the upper arms and sat her down in her chair, pushing her head down between her knees.

"All they know," Tank continued, "is that by the time they found the body of the guy he impersonated to get out of the prison, Escobar had already emptied the poor schmuck's bank account and traded in his car."

The dizziness finally passed and Stephanie raised her head to find Max squatting down in front of her, concern written all over his face. He saw fear written all over hers. She held his hand in a death grip, and he felt the tremors that ran through her body.

"Tank, what are the chances of getting anymore information from that source?" Max asked, without taking his eyes off her.

"From these Feds? No chance. Remember, we're all supposed to think that Ranger's dead. Bobby was just in the right place at the right time to overhear this. It was a fluke."

Steph had to take a couple of deep breaths before she could trust herself to speak. "I'm pretty sure that if Ranger and Hector had that information, they would have let us know so that we could pass it on to you guys. I'm willing to bet that the Feds haven't let them in on it either."

Tank grunted in response. "No shit! Those motherfuckers can't be trusted. Look, we're using every available RangeMan resource, and we called in every favor from all the 'friendlies' in all the agencies, every RangeMan employee in the country is working double shifts and every informant has their ear to the ground. Escobar will turn up."

"Yeah Slugger," said Bobby, "a guy who looks like he does can't hide forever, he'll be seen someplace. He traded in the car in Utah, so at least we have a starting point to search from. We _will _find him; it's just a matter of how long it takes." Bobby was going for upbeat, but couldn't quite pull it off, Steph thought, and they all sounded exhausted.

"We even called in your buddy, Randy Briggs, and gave him a free rein to do whatever it takes to find Escobar," Tank added.

"We have one big advantage on our side, Bombshell," Lester added. "Escobar has no way of knowing what's really going on. We found out that he was being held incommunicado at some remote Federal facility. He has no clue if his own men turned him in, if this was a plot to take over his organization, or what. He's paranoid enough that he's not gonna trust anybody, even his old crew. He's gonna lay low and do some investigating. I'm hoping that means he didn't head straight for Jersey, that we'll have enough time to get a lead on him first."

"Maybe Ranger and Hector will have a chance to finish the mission and get out before he shows up!" Hal threw in.

Stephanie sighed and rubbed her eye that had started twitching violently. She knew that the guys were trying to keep her from being more frightened than she already was and she loved them for it. But it wasn't working. "Is there anything else you want us to tell them? Anything else they need to know?"

"Yeah," Ram's voice this time, "tell them we upped the surveillance on the house. The construction crew working on the property next door is all RangeMan. Cal's the foreman and if they need reinforcements, we're right there. But would ya see if you can convince them to stay in New York City, instead of the house, for a while. At least until we get a lead on Escobar. They'll be easier to cover in the city."

"Sure, I'll tell them, but you know it may not do any good, right? Ranger is living Ramon's life and he's become so immersed in it that ..." Her voice caught in her throat, and she had to bite her lip to keep the tears from slipping out.

There was a long silence before Tank came on again, "We know all about that, Steph," he said softly. "And I know you aren't gonna want to hear this, but it's time for you and Max to pack it in and head for Trenton. You absolutely CANNOT get caught in the middle of this. "

"Guys, please!" Something close to panic hit her. "Can't we just finish out the week? I'm so close to getting something concrete … I just can't give up now. Yuri's been telling me that the merchandise will be delivered any day now and …"

"We know Bomber," Lester said sympathetically as he cut her off. "But we need to focus all of our resources on getting Ranger and Hector out alive. It's gonna take every man we have, especially now, with Escobar on the loose. We can't cover them and you too." She knew he meant that they didn't want to have to protect her from Ranger.

Tank came back on again, "Stephanie, I'm sorry, you don't have a choice. You _will _come home now, that's an order."

Steph felt the heat rise in her face as she shot up out of her chair and made a grab for the phone. Max snatched it up before she could get her hands on it and put it to his ear, turning off the speaker feature. He could all but see the steam coming out of her ears as she tried to pull it away from him and he slapped at her hands to make her back off.

"Listen you two," Bobby was saying, "there's gonna be an SUV parked in the alley behind that little mom and pop grocery store down the street from the restaurant. Keys will be in the wheel well."

"Thanks Bobby, I'll take care of it," Max told the guys. "We'll let you know what Hector and Ranger have to say after we talk to them." They all said their good byes, wishing each other luck, and hung up.

Stephanie turned and glared at Max. They had come to know each other pretty well, living in such close quarters. All he had to do was look into those big blue eyes of hers and Max knew that he wasn't going to be seeing Trenton anytime soon. He snorted and shook his head in resignation, knowing that there was no sense in arguing with her.

She had a really good mad going. "So, are you gonna try to drag me back to Trenton?" she challenged him.

"Not me!" Max held up his hands in surrender. "I'm a lot of things, but crazy isn't one of them!"

Steph relented. "Well, okay." She paced the small room for a minute. "Look," she said without looking at him, "you're a RangeMan employee and Tank gave you a direct order to go back to Trenton. You know that I'm not going to leave, but I understand that you have to." She held out her hand to him. "Thank you for everything."

Max barked out a laugh. "If you think I'm leaving you here by yourself, you're nuts. The worst Tank can do is fire me, but if anything happened to you, Ranger would hunt me down and tear me apart with his bare hands. Nope, you're stuck with me, honey." He poured himself another cup of coffee. "You calling Hector or should I?"

She couldn't help but smile at him and hand him the phone. "I'll take my shower while you talk to him," and she hip checked him as she went into the bathroom.

Ten minutes later Stephanie's blow dryer drowned out the muffled sound of Max's voice, still on the phone with Hector. She couldn't help but think about Ranger and what would happen when this was all over. She refused to let herself admit that there might be anything less than a 'happily ever after' for them. After all, their life together had been like a fairy tale, how could it end any other way? Denial was her friend, right? It had gotten her through almost every bad thing in her life, why should this be any different?

Still, the memory of how Ranger had gotten lost in Ramon nagged at her. What would happen if he wasn't able to fight his way out of that other man's skin and find his way home? The idea that Ranger could live through the mission only to be haunted by Ramon for the rest of his life terrified her.

No matter how much she denied it, there was a knot of fear that lay like a rock in her belly. Swiping at the tears that had slipped down her cheeks, Stephanie took a final look at herself in the mirror. _Enough!_ She told herself, and squared her shoulders before she left the tiny bathroom.

Max was still on phone when she walked by him toward the little closet to collect her clothes for the day. She had been so rattled that she had forgotten to take them into the bathroom with her. She scolded herself, reminding herself that she had better be on her toes. They were all going into the end game now; she couldn't afford to screw anything up.

Max held out the phone to her, "He wants to talk to you."

Steph tucked the phone between her shoulder and her ear as she rummaged in the dresser for her underwear. "Hey Hector, how goes it?"

There was a second's hesitation, then an almost whisper soft, "Babe."

"Oh God, Ranger," she breathed. "Are you okay?" She clutched the phone like it was a life line.

She could hear him smile at her words. "I am now," the sound of his voice washed over her.

Out of the corner of her eye she saw Max pick up his clothes and slip into the bathroom, trying to give her a few minutes of privacy. She walked over to the bed and curled up on it, looking out the window at the swirling snow. She felt a warmth spread slowly through her body and for the first time since she left him, she wasn't cold.

"Where are you?" she asked. For some reason it was important to her.

"Lying on the bed, looking at you," he said, knowing it would make her smile.

And it did. "I miss you so much," she whispered, closing her eyes and imagining him lying next to her. She was immediately transported back to the penthouse, to their bedroom, to their bed. They would lie, face to face, and talk after his early morning run. He would shower and lay back down next to her, his hair still damp and the scent of his Bulgari wrapping around them like a cocoon. They made some of her most precious memories in those minutes, talking and touching and making love. She had felt warm and safe and secure. The thought that they might never share that again brought an ache to her heart and tears to her eyes. As much as she tried to contain the sob, it escaped her.

Of course, he heard it. "Don't cry, Babe. You're my brave girl, and I love you."

"I love you back, Carlos."

They lay there, talking in whispers, each silently hoping that they weren't making the final memory of their time together.

RSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRS

A few hours later, Stephanie walked in the front door of The Maryushka stamping her booted feet on the floor runner to get rid of the snow, then stopped in the vestibule to shake the flakes off of her coat and fur hat. As she did every day, she had walked from her apartment to work, giving herself a few minutes of solitude to collect her thoughts and to steel herself against spending another day with Yuri.

Max was following about half a block behind her and when she turned into the restaurant, he went on to check out the SUV that the guys had left for them down the block. Later, he'd come into the restaurant for lunch, and then hang out in the back alley or store doorways, waiting for her to leave. If Yuri spotted him or got suspicious, Steph would say that Max was one of Ramon's men. She was sure that would make Yuri back off.

Paval, the kitchen porter, was filling the tube that ran through the inside of the beautiful antique silver samovar with burning coals to boil the tea water, replacing the silver tea pot on top of its chimney. He gave her a courtly bow as he straightened the silver rimmed tea glasses and their ornate holders before he took the cold ashes back to the kitchen.

The dessert table groaned under the weight of the beautiful confections displayed there. Katya, the smiling little waitress, was arranging Charlotte Russe, honey cake, tea cakes, pastries filled with fruit or cheese, delicate cookies, blintzs, and it all made Steph's mouth water. If she could just make Yuri disappear, Stephanie thought, she would really enjoy working here.

After hanging her coat in the office and trading her boots for a pair of suede pumps, she looked in the mirror and adjusted the deep V neckline of the soft grey wrap dress she wore, chosen for the fuller skirt that camouflaged her thigh holster. She felt a lot safer since she had started carrying her Berretta. She had to smile at the thought of a Stephanie Plum who actually _wanted _to carry a gun. Times sure had changed.

She ducked into the kitchen, following her nose to the source of the delicious aromas that were wafting through the restaurant. Lena was sitting at the big wooden prep table that ran down the center of the kitchen, sipping her ever present glass of tea, and chatting with Anton, her husband. Steph stepped up behind Anton, the restaurant's chef, who stood at the stove, adding spices to a large pot.

Steph peeked over his shoulder and inhaled deeply, "It smells like heaven Anton. What is it?"

"Just for you Sasha, my darling, I make my special cream of mushroom barley soup. Here, tell me what you think."

He ladled the thick, creamy soup into a bowl, garnished the top with buttery sautéed mushrooms and a dollop of sour cream and presented it with a flourish to Sasha who sat down next to Lena at the work table.

At the first spoonful, she closed her eyes and moaned in pleasure. "Oh my God, Anton! This is to die for!"

Anton, smiled at her reaction and stood with his hands folded over his expansive stomach, watching her eat. She sighed in satisfaction as she had buttered a piece of crusty bread and wiped the bowl clean. "If you keep feeding me like this and I keep eating like this, pretty soon I'm going to weigh as much as you do!" she said affectionately.

Anton patted his very substantial stomach, "Never trust a skinny cook! It means they don't eat their own food. And worse, never trust a cook who has a skinny wife! It means she doesn't trust him either." They all chuckled as he bent and kissed Lena's chubby cheek, running his hand lovingly over her butt. She laughed delightedly and patted his cheek.

Stephanie hopped off her stool and poured herself a cup of coffee, the tea just not doing it for her. "Is Yuri here yet?" she asked over the rim of her cup.

Lena and Anton exchanged a look and turned to her. Lena glanced at the door that led to the hallway and Yuri's office, then went over to Steph and took hold of both of her hands. "Sasha," she said softly, "what are you doing with him? Why would you associate with men like Yuri or that killer, Escobar?"

Stephanie didn't know what to say to her. She could hardly tell her the truth. But Lena's care and concern were written so plainly on her face, that Steph's first instinct was to spill her guts and tell Lena and Anton that she was playing spy. Of course, all that would do would be to put those two wonderful and loving people in as much danger as she was in. They had practically adopted her since she came to The Maryushka, and she had to protect them, too.

She shrugged and shook her head, "Thanks for worrying about me, you two. But I know what I'm doing. I'm a big girl and, honestly, I can take care of myself."

Everybody in the restaurant knew that she carried a little Berretta with her; they all thought that Ramon had given it to her for protection. But nobody knew about Max, who spent his days lurking around the restaurant, keeping an eye on her, or that one push on the panic button in her pocket and Max would come to the rescue.

Anton was standing behind Steph, arms folded. "He is here, in his office. Some of his thugs are with him, and he's in a fouler mood than usual. I have never seen him like this before. He's really working himself up today, yelling, screaming, breaking things … be careful Sasha. You call me if you need help." He reached over the work table and took a large, lethal looking knife from the rack and slapped the flat of the blade against the palm of his hand. "I come running!"

The thought of Anton running anywhere made Stephanie smile, and she kissed both Anton and Lena on the cheek. She poured a cup of the strong black coffee to take to Yuri, then cut a large slice of the babka, a sweet bread, thick with rum soaked sultanas, that Anton had taken out of the oven a few minutes before. Placing both on a small silver tray, she headed for Yuri's office.

As she pushed the swinging door that led to the hall open with her hip, Steph heard Lena tell Anton in a low voice, "I think there is more to our Sasha than meets the eye." Out of the corner of her eye, Steph watched Anton nod in agreement.

RSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRS

Stephanie and Max had agreed on a compromise, they would only stay in Brighton Beach until the end of the week she had negotiated with Hector. That meant she only had a few more precious days until her time was up and she had to leave for Trenton as promised. With Escobar on the loose, Steph knew she wouldn't be able to convince Hector to give her more time, so she'd really have to go to work on Yuri.

She had already decided that she would do whatever it took to make Yuri tell her what he knew, and the thought of his hands on her, of him touching her, made her sick to her stomach. The thought of having to touch him was worse. Ranger had taught her all about exerting pressure, and she knew exactly what kind of pressure she was going to have to exert on Yuri … if she could actually do it without throwing up.

As Stephanie walked down the hall to Yuri's office door, she could hear the raised, angry voice coming from inside. Yuri was at it again. She considered hiding out in the kitchen until things calmed down, but just took a deep breath and knocked on the door instead. After a second or two it was flung open by one of Yuri's flunkies.

Steph threw him a smile as she walked into the office, only to stop short at the sight in front of her. Three men casually lounged around the office while Yuri had a fourth man down on the floor in a choke hold, his arm pulling the man's head back at an odd angle. The man's face was red, his eyes bulging and his mouth wide open, his tongue stuck out as he clawed at Yuri's arm.

Yuri was wild eyed; his face was contorted in rage, his hair and clothing disheveled. He was screaming in Russian at the man he was choking to death. Steph had seen Ranger and the Merry Men in fights, in take downs where force was needed. But it was always impersonal, business-like and controlled. This was madness and standing there, she knew she had to stop it. She couldn't afford to let Yuri kill this guy and get arrested; all her plans to get information out of him would go right down the drain.

Yuri's temper and mood swings were legendary, and under all her bravado, Stephanie knew she should to be wary of setting him off. Still and all, before she realized what she was doing, she shoved the tray into the hands of one of Yuri's men, lifted her skirt and pulled out her Berretta. Flicking off the safety, she fired a shot into the ceiling, surprising herself as well as everyone else in the room.

The sound reverberated in the room like a canon had gone off and Yuri froze for a second, then very slowly released the man who fell to the floor, gasping for breath. Yuri's flunkies jumped up and pulled their guns, looking back and forth at each other, then at her, then at Yuri, then back at each other. Not the brightest bulbs in the box, she decided, but still dangerous.

"Yuri, cut it out," she yelled at him, waving the gun in his direction. "I don't think you should be taking any chances right now, do you?" When he didn't answer, she put her hand on her hip and repeated, "Well, do you?"

Breathing hard, Yuri ran his hands through his hair and got slowly to his feet, glaring at her. Stephanie's mouth went dry and her knees went weak, wondering if she had pushed him too far. Just in case, she kept her gun in her hand, using it to point toward his desk. "You sit down!" she told him, hoping that her voice wouldn't tremble.

When he actually did what she asked, she turned to the guy holding the tray and motioned for him to put it on the desk. Finally she looked at the other two men standing in the room, gaping at her, and ordered them to take Yuri's victim to the kitchen and make sure he was okay. They looked to Yuri who just waved a hand at them, but instead of moving, they just stood there, staring at her.

_Okay,_ she thought, _distractions are my specialty, I can do this!_ With shaky hands Steph flipped the safety back on her gun and put her foot up on the edge of a chair. Slowly lifting her skirt, she made a big production of sliding the little automatic back into her thigh holster and adjusting it on her leg. She made sure that they all got a good look at her lace topped thigh highs, as well as a glimpse of the black satin garter belt she was wearing. Knowing exactly where every eye in the room was riveted, she ran her hands up her leg, smoothing the stocking and adjusting the lacy top. Every mouth hung open as she ended her little performance, putting her foot back on the floor and smoothing down her skirt.

Stephanie looked around at all of them, "What?" she said sharply. "You never saw legs before? Go on, get out of here! All of you!"

When they opened the office door, Stephanie could see Lena and Anton, armed with his knife, Paval, and Katya gathered together in a knot in the hall, probably summoned by the gunshot. She smiled and gave them a little finger wave. Max stood off to one side with several of the other customers and they exchanged a nod.

Steph closed the door and took a deep breath before she turned to look at Yuri, not sure of what his reaction would be to her interference. She kept one hand on the knob as she turned to face him, holding it so that the lock wouldn't slip into the keep, and she could open the door to get out of the office if need be. She leaned back against the door and looked at him through lowered lashes. She found him tipped back in his chair, sipping his coffee, studying her.

"Are you angry with me for ruining your fun, Yuri?" she asked in a pouty, little girl voice, hoping it would mask her nerves.

Yuri sighed as he put down his cup, "No Sasha. You were right to stop me," he said calmly … a little too calmly for Steph's taste. "My idiot men would have let me kill Ivan, and he was only the messenger. I would have had to worry about getting rid of his body and witnesses and evidence. It would have been a mess. I don't have time for that kind of shit right now."

She nodded, "There's some saying about killing the messenger who brings bad news. You should talk to whoever made you angry, not kill the guy who told you about it." She tried to sound disinterested, but didn't think she pulled it off.

He looked her square in the eye. "Then I need to talk to you, Sasha, my love." He crooked a finger at her and patted the desk in front of him.

Stephanie's spidey sense had started to tingle a while ago. It always did when Yuri was around, but now it went into overdrive. Something was seriously off about the way he was acting toward her, and her first instinct was fight or flee. Right about now she thought that the flee part sounded pretty damn good to her. Too bad she couldn't. Running away just wasn't an option.

So fight it was! She felt for the panic button in her pocket, then sashayed over to the desk and pushed some papers aside, sitting on it so that she was facing him and slowly crossed her legs. She had a split second flashback of having done this same thing before. Except that time, she had been looking into the eyes of the man that she loved; not this man, who she wished she could kill. Realization hit her with startling clarity; she could easily kill the man sitting in front of her and feel no remorse at all, not if it saved Ranger.

She took a deep, steadying breath and picked up the plate with the slice of cake on it. Cutting off a chunk with the fork, she held it out to Yuri. "So tell me what made you so angry that you almost killed one of your own men?" she said conversationally. "And what does it have to do with me?"

Yuri shook his head 'no' to the cake, so Stephanie shrugged and casually popped it into her own mouth, dry as it was, hoping she looked like the picture of innocence. She knew that there was a good possibility that she was in real trouble here, especially considering how out of control Yuri had been just a little while before. She had no way of knowing what Yuri's problem was, or how much of a threat it was to her. In any event, all she really knew was that she was sitting so close to him, there was no hope of escape if he turned on her.

She arched an eyebrow at him, "Well," she prompted, "what's the problem?" and took another bite of the cake moaning as she chewed. "Are you sure you don't want any? This is fantastic!" She licked her lips slowly, hoping she could distract him.

He sat up in his chair and reach forward, taking hold of the edge of the desk and pulled his chair close enough to run his hands from her knees up to her hips and back down to rest on her legs. She kept a tight grip on the fork, just in case she needed a weapon.

Yuri's hands tightened on her thighs and he looked up into her face. "Ivan brought me some interesting news about you Sasha, my love," sarcasm dripping from his words. "News that made me _very_ unhappy." His finger massaged her thighs a little more firmly than was comfortable, and she tried not to flinch.

Stephanie was raising the last forkful of cake to her mouth and stopped, looking at him, praying he couldn't hear her heart hammering in her chest. "Alright Yuri, I'll play your game," she said with a sigh. "What did Ivan tell you about me?" She sounded bored, or at least hoped she did, and she put the now empty cake plate back on the tray, taking the napkin and delicately patting her mouth.

Yuri's lips were clamped tightly together, his thinly disguised anger simmering just below the surface. Stephanie slipped her hand into her pocket and fingered the panic button. She still held the fork tightly in her other hand, cursing herself for putting her Beretta in the holster and not in her pocket where she could get at it.

"He told me, _my sweet_, that you have a lover!" he ground out, snatching the fork out of her hand and firing it across the room, bouncing it off the office door.

Stephanie raised her eyebrows and looked at him like he was demented. "A lover? Well, of course I do!"

Yuri jumped out of his chair with a roar and shoved his face into hers, his fingers biting cruelly into her legs. "Then you admit it? You have a lover?"

She leaned back, trying to get away from him. "Yuri! You know damn well that Ramon is my lover. What's the matter with you?"

"Not Ramon," he thundered at her. "Ivan was talking about the tall blonde guy who follows you around, the guy who sits at the corner table in the back of the dining room, always has his back to the wall. Him!" His hands shot out and grabbed her by the arms so quickly she didn't have a chance to hit the panic button. He hauled her up off the desk, her feet barely touching the floor and shook her so hard that her head snapped back and forth, her hair flying.

"Yuri! Stop!" she screamed, her hands pushing against his chest. He let go of her arms, shoving her back so hard she fell onto the desk, sending the tray and everything else crashing to the floor. He took a threatening step toward her. His face wore the same crazed expression as when he was choking the breath out of Ivan, and he stood glaring down at her, his fists clenching and unclenching convulsively.

"Jesus Christ, Yuri! He isn't my _lover_! He's Ramon's watchdog. Ramon has him follow me around and spy on me," she yelled at him as she fought to untangle her skirt so she could pull her gun. "I told you that Ramon was having me followed. After you left my apartment the other night, I found him out on the fire escape, peeking in the window. I don't know how much he saw, but he runs right back to Ramon and reports everything I do."

Yuri's anger evaporated instantly and he slumped back down in his chair, scrubbing his hands over his face. Stephanie pushed herself up to sit on the edge of the desk again, her hand on the Berretta, waiting to see if she needed to pull it. Yuri just sat there with his head in his hands and she considered bolting, getting while the getting was good, grabbing Max and getting the hell out of Dodge.

She slid off the desk and made it almost all the way to the door before the little voice in her head stopped her. _Can't run now_, it said. _You've invested too much time and effort to chicken out now._ Granted the man was crazy and had definite anger management problems, and if there was ever a guy she should run like hell from, it was Yuri, but she was so close ...

She took a deep breath to give herself courage, and turned around slowly. "I can't believe you thought that I would take one of Ramon's _flunkies_ for a lover. That's just insulting!' she spat out, "And you hurt me, too! Just wait until Ramon finds out! He's gonna be pissed at _me _because I let you put your hands on me!" She rubbed her arms, already sore from where Yuri had grabbed her; she was going to have some colossal bruises tomorrow.

"Sasha, please, I didn't mean to hurt you," Yuri pleaded like a small child, his voice making Stephanie's skin crawl. She decided that in addition to being a sociopath, Yuri had Multiple Personality Disorder and anger issues. He was a whole mental institution wrapped into one body, and joy of joys, he was all hers.

"I'm a jealous man, Sasha," he said, like that was supposed to make it okay that he'd hurt her. She wondered how many of his women actually bought that line of crap. "I don't let anyone touch what's mine. You belong to Ramon now, but soon you'll be my woman, and only mine."

"Yeah? Well I'm not your's yet!" Stephanie shot back, blowing out a disgusted sigh and rolling her eyes dramatically. _Over my dead body_, she thought as she sat back on the edge of the desk with her arms folded over her chest and her foot swinging, the picture of petulance.

Smarmy Yuri made an appearance. "Oh, my little love… what can I do to make you smile … just tell me what it is, anything you want."

The only things that she could think of that would bring a smile to her face involved his dead body sprawled in the middle of the office floor, but she doubted she could get him to put a bullet in his own brain. She'd be more than happy to volunteer to do the job for him, but she didn't think that he'd take her up on that either. She turned her face away from him, giving him the cold shoulder.

"Ah! I know what will make you happy!" he said with a leer. "I'll buy your stockings from you, like Ramon did!" He ran his hand up her crossed leg from her ankle up under her skirt to the top of her thigh high, fingering the garter belt clasp.

His hands on her made her stomach lurch and her heart leap into her throat. She put both of her hands on his to stop their northward progress. "Oh really?" she said, playing the game and giving him a slow smile. "And exactly how much will you pay me for my stockings?" She slowly ran the toe of her shoe up and down the inside of his calf.

He curled two fingers into the top of her stocking and slid them back and forth. "All the vodka and caviar you can eat."

She snorted, "I can have that anytime I want. All I have to do is call Ramon." She still held his hands in place so that he couldn't move them. "Come on, use your imagination. What are my stockings worth to you? You keep telling me how rich you're going to be …" she asked flirtatiously.

Yuri smirked at her. "You have a mercenary little heart, Sasha. Alright, Ramon only gave you a thousand dollars. You told me about all his cars … that's what I'll give you!" he announced magnanimously. "Pick one of his cars; you can have whichever one you want!"

Sasha cocked her head to the side and looked up at him. "That's very generous of you, Yuri, I'm impressed. _But …_I want it in writing! Before you get the stockings! She cocked an eyebrow at him.

He shook his head at her. "You drive a hard bargain Sasha. I wouldn't bother negotiating with anybody else; I'd just take what I want. Is there anything else?"

In for a penny, in for a pound, she thought. Stephanie let go of his hands and leaned back on the desk, bracing herself on her hands, and smiled at him. "Promise me you'll tell me when you're going to kill Ramon and I promise you a surprise you'll never forget!" she said suggestively.

Yuri gave her a feral smile and tried to move closer to her, but she raised her foot and planted it firmly against his belt buckle. "Unh, unh, unh," she shook her head at him. "Did you forget? I said in writing!"

He laughed as he threw his hands up in the air, but hunted around on the floor for a pen and paper. He scribbled on the back of an envelope and signed it before turning it around for her to read. Taking it from him, Sasha folded it and slid it seductively into the V neck of her dress, then calmly reached into her pocket and pressed the panic button. "And remember, you get my stockings … and nothing else!"

Yuri sat in his chair and uncrossed her legs as she sat perched on the desk in front of him. He lifted her foot and slipped off her shoe, dropping it on the floor, placing her foot on the edge of the chair between his legs. Repeating the action with her other foot, he massaged her instep, his eyes never leaving her face.

Slowly, he lifted her skirt, pushing it up over her knees and up her thighs until the lacy tops of her stockings were exposed. Almost gently, he opened the Velcro strap on her holster and took it off her leg, placing it on the desk within her reach, and she breathed a silent prayer of thanks.

He took his time, opening the snaps on the garter and sliding his fingers into the top the stocking, slowly rolling first one and then the other down off of her legs, massaging and stroking her skin as he went. He must have mistaken the shudder of disgust that shot through her body for passion because his eyes suddenly darkened and his breathing became raspy, his nostrils flared and he growled deep in his chest. In another man it would have been sexy, erotic. But in Yuri, it was revolting and Stephanie could feel the bile that rose, burning her throat.

She tried to hop off the desk, but Yuri wouldn't move. "Alright, you have the stockings, I have work to do," she said, wondering where the hell Max was.

Shooting up out of his chair, he put his hands on her knees and shoved them apart. She could see the bulge in his pants straining against his zipper as he pulled her closer to the edge of the desk, making her fall flat on her back as he ground against her. She found the panic button in her pocket and pushed it over and over as she yelled at him to stop.

With lightening speed he twisted a hand in her hair to hold her head still while he bent down to take her mouth with his, his weight crushing her. The kiss was hard and brutal, his fingers pulling her hair as he forced his tongue between her lips making her gag. His other hand found its way under her skirt and he tore at her panties, trying to pull them down.

Stephanie struggled against him, trying to push him off of her, raking her nails down his face, anything to make him stop. She was helpless against his size and strength and, in desperation, she bit his tongue as hard as she could. Yuri jerked back, lust turning to rage. With a roar he raised his fist.

Stephanie squeezed her eyes shut and threw her arms over her face in an effort to ward off the blow that never came. Yuri stood frozen, his fist still poised to strike. Over the pounding of her pulse in her ears, she heard another noise … sharp knocking on the office door…

An urgent voice… Lena's, "Yuri! Yuri! Open the door! Hurry! Ramon Escobar is waiting for you!"

_**Ranger and Stephanie were friends and lovers and partners.**_

_**They were five weeks, three days, seven hours, and twenty-eight minutes into her plan to save him, and now, their time was running out!**_

_**TBC …**_

_**A/N: We're almost to the end … just a few more chapters until the Game is played out and we'll find out who the winners and losers will be. So, your turn to tell me … how do you think Game is going to end? Tell me your ideas in a review and the reader or readers who come the closest to what I have planned, will make a guest appearance in the final chapter. And be sure to sign your name! Ranger and Steph can't wait to read your ideas!**_

_**Thanks to everyone who has reviewed, I tried to reply to everyone. If I missed you, I apologize … thanks for reading and reviewing, I appreciate all of the readers who've stuck with Game for all this time.**_

_**Stayce**_


	38. Russian Roulette!

_**Disclaimer: Everyone belongs to Janet Evanovich except the ones that are mine, and I'm just playing.**_

_**Warnings: Language, Violence, All 12 books.**_

_**A/N: Special thanks to my Dream Team: Super Karen my fabulous Editor, Luisa, Brain Stormer and Translator Extraordinario, and Lindsay my Voice of Reason, Lisa for making me laugh, Beth C. for feeding me, and all the BC & PP & BCRUS Babes for support, friendship, suggestions, hand holding, cheer leading and general ass kicking. I love you all!**_

_**Thank you to all of you wonderful readers and reviewers! I've tried to answer each and every review that you've sent. You've all made my Inner Review Slut very happy!**_

_**Don't forget to read Kashy's fabulous 'Keep The Faith' … you don't want to miss it! Read and review them please, you'll be glad you did! **_

_**The Name Of The Game!**_

_**By Stayce (XJerseyGirl)**_

_**Chapter 38: Russian Roulette!**_

10

Yuri stood frozen, looming over Stephanie, one hand around her throat, pinning her to the desk, the other still poised to punch her, his attention riveted on the office door. Lena's voice, urgent and anxious, whispered, "Yuri, please hurry! Senor Escobar is very upset. He's demanding to see Sasha and I can't find her anywhere!"

"Shit!" Yuri muttered under his breath, and immediately released Stephanie. "Take him up to the private dining room and get him whatever he wants. Tell him that I'm in a meeting and I'll be right up," he called to Lena.

As soon as he let her go, Stephanie rolled to her side and made a grab for her gun, lying next to her on the desk. Before she could get her hands on it, though, Yuri grabbed her arm and hauled her off the desk, pushing her so hard that she fell back into his chair. He bent and picked up her stockings from the floor, shoving them into her hands. "Don't do anything stupid," he growled at her. "Get yourself cleaned up and get up there before your boyfriend kills us both."

Yuri went into the small private bathroom attached to the office, washed the blood off the scratches on his hands and ran a comb through his hair. Straightening his tie as he came back into the office, he picked up his jacket and put it on as he walked across the room to the door. He stopped in front of Sasha, watching as she slowly pulled on her stockings and hooked them to her garter belt, her hands clearly shaking.

"I told you to move!" he barked. "What's the matter with you?" He grabbed her by the arm and hauled her out of the chair, shoving her toward the bathroom.

She turned on him, digging her finger nails into the hand that gripped her arm until he cursed and let her go. "You hurt me, you bastard!" she hissed through gritted teeth. "I should tell Ramon what you did to me. He'd cut your heart out!"

Yuri grabbed both her wrists, squeezing them tightly, narrowing his eyes as he looked at her. His lips curled back in a cruel version of a smile as she flinched in pain. "If you even _think_ about saying anything to Ramon, _my love_, I'll tell him that you were the one who hit on me … _and _all my men! And you can be very sure that they'll back me up." He gave her his snake smile. "You may be smart Sasha, but don't make the mistake of thinking that you're smarter than me."

He released her hands and patted her cheek. "Remember that, and we'll get along just fine." He bent to kiss her, but she turned her head away at the last second.

Yuri went to the door and opened it, looking back over his shoulder at her, "Hurry up and don't keep your Latin lover waiting," he snapped. "He has a short fuse and I don't want him to blow up here."

Stephanie bent and picked up the cake plate from where it had landed on the floor and fired it across the room at Yuri. It missed his head by an inch, shattering against the wall. She stood, hands on hips, glaring at him.

He turned slowly, brushing the china fragments from his jacket before he looked at her. "I think I'm going to have fun taming you, my little wildcat," he sneered as he walked out of the room, "and have Paval clean up this mess."

The door closed behind him and Stephanie clinched her fists and her teeth, stamping her feet and growling out her fury. She wished she were a man; it would have felt so good to be able to beat Yuri to a bloody pulp with her bare hands. The need to inflict pain on him was overwhelming, and she had to fight the urge to chase after him and jump him, not just for what he did to her, but for what he wanted to do to Ranger.

Instead, she took a deep breath. She should be relieved, she lectured herself, that she had made it through another close encounter with that lunatic relatively unscathed. Even better, she had been able to control her desire to just bag it all and blow the son of a bitch away, she thought as she velcroed the holster back onto her thigh. Ranger would have been thrilled with her for that!

Still muttering to herself, she hunted around for her shoes, stepping into them before she locked herself into the bathroom to try to repair the damage to her hair and makeup. She looked into the mirror and wanted to scream. Dried tears had left tracks down her cheeks and angry red welts decorated her throat where Yuri had grabbed her. She could fix the makeup but she didn't know what she was going to do about her neck.

And where the hell was Max, anyway? He should have come to her rescue the minute she pushed that panic button… if he was able to, that is. What if he wasn't able to? What if he'd had a run-in with Yuri's men? What if he was hurt … or worse? A million 'what ifs' sped through her mind and the worst part was that she couldn't do anything about it right now.

She heard a key slide into the lock on the office door and Lena, carrying Steph's purse, slipped into the room, quickly locking the door behind her. Lena looked her over as she held out the bag, "Max and I thought you would need this," she said with a conspiratorial smile. "He had trouble getting past Yuri's men, so I came instead."

Steph sagged back against the wall in relief. "So he's okay?"

Lena nodded. "He is your boyfriend, yes?" she asked with a smile.

"No, not my boyfriend. Max is my … friend." And my partner and my bodyguard and a lot of other things, she thought.

"Sasha, I will bring your hat and coat and you can go out the back door and get away from here. I can tell them," Lena tipped her head toward the upstairs dining room, "that you had to go pick up something for Anton, for the kitchen? It would buy you some time." She looked at Steph hopefully.

Lena's face wore such sincerity and concern that Stephanie finally had to look away from her, afraid that she would spill her guts to the woman. She shook her head, "Thanks, but I can't, Lena. I can't leave yet."

"Well then, we need to cover those marks on your throat," Lena said as she untied the colorful silk scarf from around her own neck and draped it around Sasha's shoulders.

Steph rummaged around in her purse for her little makeup bag and went back to the mirror. Minutes later, her makeup was repaired and the scarf was artfully tied around her neck. She looked into the mirror, satisfied with what she saw there.

Lena gave her a hug and went back to the kitchen, and Stephanie, her heart beating double time at the thought of seeing Ranger, ran up the stairs.

9

It had been Ranger that she had spoken to on the phone this morning, laying on the bed, remembering what their lives had been like before the Lazarus Mission. Stephanie mentally crossed her fingers that it would be Ranger, and not Ramon, who was waiting for her in the private dining room.

Diego was standing guard outside the closed double doors and he gave her a curt nod before he rapped sharply on the door and opened it, stepping back to let her pass into the room. Ramon and Yuri were speaking rapid fire Russian and didn't look up when she came in. Neither was happy, and it was obvious they were arguing.

She stood inside the door and waited for Ramon to call her over. No matter what her relationship was with Ranger, Ramon would never tolerate Sasha barging right in, and Ranger was playing Ramon to the hilt. Stephanie had to remind herself that in situations like this, she had to be as much of an actor as Ranger was.

Here in the ornate dining room with its gilded mirrors, crystal chandeliers, silver and china, he had chosen to sit in a richly upholstered, high backed chair, larger and more imposing than the regular chairs surrounding the table. He looked like a king holding court, and he knew it. Ranger was here for a purpose, though. Ramon had show up unexpectedly to put the fear of God into Yuri.

They all knew that the Lazarus Mission was at a standstill. The last crucial piece of information was eluding them. The whole, elaborate scheme had been devised to find out who was paying the Russian mob to provide them with weapons grade plutonium… the name of the fine, upstanding, patriotic American citizen who wanted to sell homemade nuclear bombs to his fellow Americans for fun and profit.

That name was the last piece of information that the feds were waiting for, the thing that was hanging up the whole operation. Once they had the name of the buyer, the last piece of the puzzle would be in place and Ranger and Che could just pack up and go home. Their mission would be completed, the feds would take over, and they could walk away.

Yuri knew who the buyer was, but since Yuri wasn't sharing that little tid-bit, the feds had concocted a plan to get him to spill the information they needed; Yuri would be told that Ramon would refuse to bring the goods into the country until he knew who the shipment was going to be delivered to.

Stephanie knew that the whole operation had been like playing a game … anticipating what your opponent would do, strategizing your next move, betting on the outcome. But now, it was up to one of them, Ranger, Hector or Stephanie herself, to make Yuri play by their rules.

Without looking at her, Ramon called her over to stand next to him. As she swung across the room, he simply held out his arm and when she reached him, he wrapped it around her hips, pulling her close to his side. He continued talking to Yuri, who shot Sasha a brief, threatening look. She could tell from the slight squeeze of Ranger's hand on her hip that he has seen it, too.

When Yuri got up from the table and went to the bar to get himself a drink, Ramon turned his face up to Sasha. Looking into his eyes, she had no doubt that it was Ranger who had his arm around her. She bent to give him a kiss and shrieked in surprise as he pulled her across the arm of the chair and into his lap, earning her another glare from Yuri. Ramon had one arm around her shoulders, holding her against his chest; his other hand slid up under her dress, along the back of her leg. And when his fingers encountered her thigh holster, he chuckled and tickled her on the inside of her thigh.

She giggled and kicked her feet, shrieking, "Ramon! Stop it!" putting on a show for Yuri's benefit. Ranger gave her his wolf grin before he brought his mouth down on hers, a low groan escaping as he slid his tongue into her mouth. She lost herself in that kiss, melting into him, all her fears swept away just by having his arms around her. She fisted her hands in his hair, pressing her body against his, the other men in the room completely forgotten.

Over the edge of his coffee cup, Che eyed Yuri, not trusting that the man wouldn't do something stupid to set Ramon off. He watched Yuri's body stiffen and his fists clinch as he watched Ramon and Sasha's love play. As their kiss deepened and their passion became obvious, Yuri flushed a deep red, his breathing became erratic, and fury and hatred contorted his face.

Che left the table and moved closer to Yuri, leaning in to whisper, "Soon, mi amigo, Ramon's little snatch will be all yours," he said conspiratorially. "Only a few more days …"

Che's amused voice called out, "Hey you two, get a room," and he laughed a little too loudly.

Ramon broke the kiss and half turned to Che and Yuri, growling, "Get out!"

Sasha sat up in Ramon's lap, lacing her fingers around his neck and pulling his face into her cleavage. She caught Yuri's furious stare as she looked at him over Ramon's shoulder and met it with an evil grin. She took Ramon's hand and slipped it inside the top of the wrap dress to cup her breast and she moaned loudly, clearly taunting Yuri.

Che caught the show as well and smirked as he turned to Yuri, "Come on Yuri, I'll buy you a drink!" He slapped the taller man on the back as they walked out of the room. "I'm leaving Diego outside the door," Che called over his shoulder … a reminder that he wouldn't really be leaving them alone.

8

As soon as the door closed, Ranger framed her face with his hands. "Babe," he whispered, and kissed her thoroughly before leaning back in his chair and running his hands up and down her arms, studying her face. "That was quite a little performance you put on for Yuri's benefit. What the hell are you up to?"

Stephanie looked at him and arched an eyebrow. "What's the matter? Is my Latin Lover jealous?" she said, trying to make light of the situation, and leaned in to give him a kiss.

His hands went to her shoulders and he held her off. "Stephanie … I'm serious and you know it. What are you trying to do? What's going on with Yuri?" The tone of his voice changed and became sharp and cold.

Her eyes fell from his and she studied his tie, adjusting the knot and centering it over his chest. She could feel his heart racing under her hand… not Ranger's normal, steady heartbeat that she was used to. She chewed the inside of her lip, trying to figure out how just much to tell him. Ramon lurked just below the surface and she was afraid that if Ranger got angry, he might fall into the Ramon persona again. It would break her heart to watch Ranger disappear like that. As if reading her mind, he took a deep breath and tipped his head back to look at the ceiling for a few long seconds, controlling his anger.

Finally, he looked at her again, "Tell me, Steph. It'll be alright, I promise," his voice had softened and he lifted her chin so that their eyes met.

Still doubtful, Steph tried to choose her words carefully. "Do you remember how you telling me about the value of exerting pressure on somebody?"

He nodded and gifted her with a small smile. "I seem to recall demonstrating how well it could work."

She smiled at the memory, too. "Well, let's just say that I've been trying to exert some pressure on Yuri." She looked down at her hands in her lap.

He bent his head down to look into her face. "And did that work?" he asked, searching her face.

She rolled her eyes. "Too well, I'm afraid. I didn't take into consideration just how crazy he is," she said as she threw up her hands. "I forgot how jealous his is of you an…" She froze when she realized what she had said, and looked at him wide-eyed. "I …I mean Ramon. It's not that he wants _me,_ he just wants everything that belongs to Ramon," she said in a rush.

"Stephanie, you swore to me that you'd be careful. You're taking too many chances, getting too close to him; you're giving him the opportunity to hurt you."

"Look," she said in frustration, "you and I both know that I have to play him. He's just not gonna volunteer information about the merchandise or the buyer or the hit on you," she argued. "I have to give him a _reason_ to tell me. It's just that I never know which one of his personalities I'm dealing with," looking away from him again. "One minute he's this normal guy and the next he's trying to rip off heads and the next he's Mister Romance. Today he was just kinda … rough." She unconsciously raised her hand to her throat while she spoke.

Ranger ran his hands over her shoulders to her throat and started to remove the scarf that Lena had tied around her neck. Stephanie put her hands over his, stilling them. "Don't," she whispered and shook her head sadly. She didn't want him to see the marks that Yuri had left on her and she looked away from him again, blinking back the tears that pricked at her eyes.

His watched her for several seconds, then he carefully unknotted the fabric, gently pulling one end of the scarf so that the bright silk slithered around her neck and down into her lap in a pool of brilliant color. He stared at the marks on her throat and let his fingertips drift over her skin. So gently that she almost wasn't sure she felt it, he touched his lips to each bruise. Her eyes drifted closed as desire shot through her veins like a bolt of lightening and she fisted her hands in his hair, holding him to her.

He nuzzled her face and kissed her mouth, their tongues dancing until they were both breathless. Her head fell back when he slipped his hands inside the neckline of her wrap dress, pushing it off her shoulders, pulling her bra straps down her arms. His let his fingers drift over the swell of her breasts and he teased her nipples through the lace of her bra. She arched her back, pressing her breasts into his hands, moaning as he kneaded her tender flesh.

Trailing hot, open mouthed kisses over her skin, his lips and tongue worked the sweet spot where her neck met her shoulder until she was writhing against him. She whimpered helplessly when he raised his mouth from her shoulder to whisper, "Promise me that you'll go back to Trenton today," before threading his fingers through her hair and fusing his mouth to hers again.

His words snapped her out of her lust induced stupor, it took an effort, but she broke the kiss and pushed away from him, getting up off his lap. He was exerting pressure again, only now she knew what he was doing. Any other time it might have worked and she would have blithely given him her word, agreed to anything, just to keep his mouth moving against her skin. He knew how hungry she always was for him and he was trying to use her weakness to his advantage. This time though, she wouldn't … couldn't let it work.

He watched Stephanie straighten her clothes and all but stumble over to the bar, leaning her elbows on the smooth marble surface. She lowered her head down to her hands and ran her finger through her hair in an effort to compose herself. She didn't want to lie to him, but didn't want to make him angry enough to have Tank come and drag her back home either. She had to think of a way to plead her case logically, to make him understand why she couldn't leave.

Ranger came up behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist, trapping her between the bar and his chest. Her head fell back against his shoulder and he nuzzled the side of her face. "I can't stand the thought of him putting his hands on you, even looking at you. If he hurts you, I'll kill him." He took a deep breath, "Stephanie, I want you safe."

She turned in his arms and laid her head on his shoulder again. Her lips moved against his neck as she spoke. "That's because you love me," she said softly. "But we both know that if I were an agent, you'd see it as a necessary risk." She hesitated a moment, "I love you, so I'm going do whatever I need to do, whatever it takes, to get you home."

"My very own agent provocateur? Working from the inside to bring down the bad guys?" he said with a small smile.

She cradled his face in her hands and looked up at him, "I'm doing exactly the same thing that you are, Ranger. I'm willing to risk it all for what I love the most."

Ranger looked into her face and saw the fierce determination there. This was his Babe; no force on Earth could stop her, not even him. He shook his head in resignation. "What am I going to do with you?"

"You're going to love me," she said against his lips.

He bent, and putting an arm beneath her knees, lifted her in his arms. She buried her face in his neck, inhaling that unique essence that was Ranger. He carried her to the wide leather couch that sat on the far side of the room and laid her down on it, then stretched out beside her.

Leaning up on his elbow, he brushed the hair out of her face. "I miss your curls and your big blue eyes," he said a little sadly as he ran his hand through her straight hair and bent to kiss her long and slow and deep.

When she opened her eyes, she realized the he was holding his closed fist above her head. Puzzled, she looked from his hand to his face. He slowly spread open his fingers and the heavy gold necklace with their pearl suspended from it dropped from his hand to dangle above her face.

Her eyes widened, then instantly filled with tears when she saw it. Fisting her hands in his hair, she pulled him down to her and peppered his face with kisses. "Ohhhhhh!" she breathed. "How did you get it? I mean, Bobby had it! I gave it to him again …He was supposed to give it to you if …" She didn't finish the sentence; she just reached out to touch the pearl.

"Thank Hector," Ranger said with a smile. "He went on a quest to retrieve it for us. He arranged some elaborate scheme to accidentally bump into a 'stranger' in Manhattan and walked away with the necklace in his pocket."

A sob escaped her as he slipped the ornate chain over her head and he held her close, kissing her tears away. They spent their last precious minutes together touching and tasting, kissing and memorizing each sensation, the sound of each soft gasp and sigh, whispered words of love and need, pleasure and pain … storing it all away for a future that might not have anything but memories. They lay in each other's arms, legs tangled, clothes in disarray, both silently wishing that they could make time stand still.

And then he was gone.

Stephanie stood at the dining room window, clutching the pearl and looking down at the long shadows stretching across the street below. Ramon's limo idled silently in front of the restaurant in the dimming afternoon light, its exhaust curling up like smoke. She watched as Caesar jumped out and came around to open the back door, and Diego, the faithful watchdog, his hand on his gun, looked up and down the street for any threat.

Ranger strode out of the building with Hector at his side. He stopped abruptly before he stepped into the car, almost as if someone had called his name. She knew he could feel her eyes on him when he turned and looked up at her. She was leaning against the window frame, her arms wrapped tightly around her waist as if she was trying to keep herself from falling apart. She raised one hand and laid it flat against the window pane. "I love you," she said from behind the glass and she saw a flash of pain cross his face before he turned and stepped into the car.

Ranger leaned back into the butter soft leather seat and ran his hands over his face. He knew with absolute certainty that despite all their efforts, this mission would end badly. As much as he wanted to deny it, as much as he wanted to drug her, knock her cold, drag her off and lock her up in some safe house, he knew that when it was over, she would spend the rest of her life blaming herself for not being able to save him. No matter what happened, he knew that she would die with him, if not physically, than emotionally. There would be no escaping the death sentence they both had hanging over their heads.

7

Lost in thought, Stephanie came down the stairs from the private dining room. She was still trying to figure out a way to make Yuri spill the name of the buyer. She sighed in frustration and said a silent prayer that, miraculously, the perfect opportunity would present itself.

She turned the corner and found Yuri standing in his office doorway, waiting for her. The last thing she wanted was to deal with him again today. Still, she couldn't miss any chance to put the plan into action. She hesitated a second, then stuck her nose up in the air and sailed past him to go to the kitchen and then out into the dining room to start her shift as hostess.

As she passed, he reached out and took her hand, pulling her into his office and closing the door. He backed her against the wall, bracing his hands on either side of her head, but didn't touch her.

She crossed her arms over her chest and stared him down. "Well?" she demanded sharply.

"Come and have dinner with me." Snake charmer Yuri was in the room, she thought, as he leered at her. If one personality couldn't get him what he wanted, he just pulled another one out of his hat. The man just creeped her out.

"No thank you, I'm not hungry," she said rather primly, looking away from him. "Anyway, my shift starts in a few minutes, and my boss doesn't like me to be late."

"Then keep me company while I have mine. Lena can cover for you." Yuri took a step back from her and held out his hand toward a table in the corner of the office that had been set for two. He pulled out her chair and seated her, then opened a bottle of Champagne and poured it into crystal flutes. He held up his glass in a silent salute to her and took a sip, but Sasha didn't touch hers.

She eyed Yuri suspiciously, not saying anything. He was up to something, but what? He may have forgotten that he had tried to beat on her only a few hours ago, but she certainly hadn't. She watched him spoon a generous serving of the restaurant's most expensive caviar onto a mother of pearl plate, then added several of the buttery toast points that Sasha liked so much and put the plate down in front of her before serving himself.

"What's all this for?" she asked him, waving her hand at the table, laden with all her favorite foods. She didn't know what he was up to, but knowing how jealous he was of Ramon, she wouldn't put it past him to spike her food with a date rape drug or something, just to get what he wanted.

"It's an apology," he said, reaching for her hand. She snatched it away and crossed her arms instead.

Yuri was buttering her up, she thought, and all she had to do was figure out why. "You don't apologize Yuri, so why now? What's going on?"

Yuri threw his napkin on the table and slumped back in his chair in exasperation. "I can't fool you, can I Sasha?" He blew out a deep breath and massaged his forehead. "Che told me that Ramon is having a problem with this operation. My … partners … in Russia have a lot of money invested in this deal, millions, in fact. They won't be happy about losing it and they'll demand repayment. I don't have that kind of money. So, this has to work out, otherwise …" He sighed deeply, again. "I need your help," he finally admitted, and looked at her with his version of puppy dog eyes. Steph got the feeling that the puppy was Cujo.

She snorted. "And you thought that it'd just take Champagne and caviar to buy my help? That's insulting!" and she rolled her eyes.

"I was going to throw this into the bargain." He reached into his pocket and pulled out a tennis bracelet with diamonds so big they made her eyes pop. He fastened it around her wrist while she stared at it, open mouthed.

"Ohhhh! Yuri! That's more like it," Sasha gushed when the shock wore off, and she immediately went into her 'bimbo/gold digger' routine, holding her arm up so the diamonds would sparkle in the light. She smiled at Yuri like he was the greatest thing since sliced bread, and put a spoonful of caviar on the toast. Leaning across the table, giving Yuri a view of her cleavage, she put the caviar to Yuri's mouth. "So, what do you want to know, lover?"

Sasha spent the next hour feeding Yuri, and not just the caviar. Her prayers had been answered. She had managed to convince Yuri that it was all his fault that the delivery had been held up. He had made Ramon suspicious, she told him, and there would be no delivery until he provided Ramon with the name of the buyer.

"Ramon isn't stupid," she said. "He doesn't trust anybody and he doesn't take chances. He knows you've been playing games and he thinks you're gonna try to pull something. He doesn't know you're gonna get rid of him, he just thinks you're gonna try to rip him off. Anyway, what does it really matter if Ramon knows who the buyer is? You're gonna kill him anyway," she said with a shrug.

"If you knew all this, why didn't you tell me before? It would have saved me all this trouble!" he snapped.

"Oh come on, Yuri," she rolled her eyes, "I have to look out for myself first. I can't afford to burn any bridges. I always go with the winner, and right now I don't know who that's gonna be, you or Ramon."

She watched him process the information and could see that he was still undecided. "You know, if your pals in Russia find out this delay is because you screwed up, they're not gonna be real happy with you either. I'm not sure I wanna get involved with somebody who stands a good chance of being found floating in the bay or buried in a landfill."

The thought of dealing with his Russian business partners was too much for Yuri, and to Steph's relief he pulled out his phone and called Che to arrange a meeting with Ramon.

As she walked home that night, Tank called her. Ramon Escobar had been spotted in Philadelphia. Shit! When were they gonna catch a break?

Stephanie and Max spent the next couple of days fielding calls from RangeMan and Hector, passing the information back and forth on the secured phone. Randy Briggs had been able to tap into federal files and was supplying a flood of information about Ramon Escobar, from sightings, to the agents assigned to tail him, to the discovery of those agents' bodies. It came as no surprise that the feds had underestimated how dangerous Escobar really was.

RangeMan wouldn't make the same mistake. When they found Escobar, Tank told her, the solution to the problem would be simple. Escobar would be dead.

6

Stephanie walked down the steps of her apartment building into the swirling snow, pulling up the fur collar of her coat and drawing in a deep breath of the cold, crisp air. Max was still up in the apartment, filling Hector in on the latest information that Tank had supplied on Escobar. These few minutes alone while she walked to the restaurant gave her an opportunity to clear her mind and think.

It dawned on her that she had never asked Yuri about how and when he planned to kill 'Ramon', and Yuri had never said anything more than that he was going to shoot him. Now she'd have to start fishing around for that information and she knew she didn't have much time to get it. As much as she hated the idea, she'd have to exert more pressure on Yuri, a lot more. She imagined his hands on her again and shuddered in disgust.

Buffeted by the winds, Steph hurried as best she could down the slippery sidewalk, grateful that she had decided to wear slacks and flat heeled boots today, a broken leg or a sprained ankle wasn't on her agenda. Finally making it to the restaurant, she grabbed the door handle, yanking it open. Only the door didn't open. She was more than surprised to find that the front door was still locked. She actually pulled on it a couple more times in disbelief. The restaurant was NEVER closed. Cupping her hands on the window, she peeked inside and realized that the dining room was empty and the lights were turned off.

Her spidey sense started to tingle and she pulled her gun out of her purse, slipping it into her coat pocket. She backtracked down the street and around the corner to the alley that ran parallel to the street, wondering if maybe Yuri's Russian 'partners' had gotten fed up and had come to collect their money.

The streets were deserted because of the weather and the streetlights had just come on adding to the ominous feeling that had come over her. She flattened herself against the side of the corner building and sneaked a quick look into the alley. As far as she could tell, it was empty. Snow collected on the fire escapes that clung to the backs of the buildings, small trash bins and old fashioned metal garbage cans were lined up like soldiers, ready to be marched out to the curb on trash day.

The wind gusted down the narrow passageway, making a weird moaning sound. Snowflakes swept through the halos of the security lights over the rear doors of the buildings that backed onto the alley. Everything was eerily quiet, no traffic or pedestrians, the shops closed up tight … she felt like the last person on Earth.

Stephanie shook off the feeling and pulled out her cell phone to call Max, but the call went straight to his voice mail. She left a message, telling him what was going on, and that she was going to take a look around. Probably it was a good thing he hadn't answered, since he'd tell her to stay put and wait for him. She'd freeze to death if she had to do that.

Holding her gun down by her side, she cautiously made her way down the alley, skirting the trash cans, but staying as close to the wall as she could. Darkness fell quickly, and she avoided the pools of light from the security lights. With a muffled crash, a gust of wind knocked over a trash can and Steph instinctively ducked down in the shadows. She crouched there for a minute, her heart thudding in her chest and watched the papers and debris get carried away by the wind.

Scolding herself for being such a chicken, she stood up and moved down the alley toward the restaurant's metal security door. She put her ear to it, but with the wind blowing, it was impossible to hear anything. Giving a quick look up and down the alley, she gingerly turned the knob, and when the door opened, she slipped inside.

She stood in the back hallway for a minute, holding her breath, listening. She could hear the humming of the kitchen appliances, but nothing else. In the dim light from the emergency exit sign she could see small puddles of water on the floor, probably melted snow, leading toward the basement. Stephanie took off her coat and hat, ditching them in a little alcove by the kitchen, and tucking her gun into the small of her back and her sat phone into her pocket, she quietly went over to the basement door.

Light showed from underneath and she could hear the low hum of voices from below. The cellar was a confusing maze of little rooms and hallways, used mostly to store old furniture and extra restaurant equipment. It was a dark, dank, spooky place with tiny barred windows that made her think of a dungeon. On her few trips down there, she couldn't wait to escape the place.

She made it down the steep stairs and followed the voices to the room at the far end of the hallway. The door was standing ajar and a naked light bulb, hanging from the ceiling, lit the room, giving her a clear view of what was going on inside. Yuri was surrounded by about a dozen of his thugs who were all dressed like knock-off RangeMen. They all wore head to toe black and had ski masks pulled over their faces.

Stephanie watched from the darkness as the men shoved aside a couple of heavy crates uncovering what looked like a large safe. Yuri spun the dial, then turned the handle and swung the door open. He started passing out automatic weapons from the vault, Uzis, a Bizon, rifles. He handed out enough fire power to overthrow a small nation, and as he barked out orders to the men, Stephanie realized that they were going to go after Ramon, tonight! Panic knotted in her stomach. She had to get out of there so she could call Ranger and warn him.

Moving as fast as she could in the dark, she made it halfway up the steps when a hand shot out and grabbed her arm, pulling her roughly down to the floor. A hand clamped over her mouth and Stephanie sank her teeth into it as hard as she could. It was jerked away from her with a curse and she let out a blood curdling scream. She struggled wildly against the man who locked his arms around her, pinning her hands to her sides, and dragged her up the stairs and into the kitchen.

Her scream brought Yuri and his men running and she was still fighting against the arms that pinned her when Yuri came into the kitchen and the lights were flipped on.

"Sasha?" he said in surprise. "What are you doing here?" he asked suspiciously and signaled the man to release her.

"Yuri!" Sasha cried in relief, and she flung her arms around Yuri's neck and hung on to him. "I came to work and everything was dark and I was looking for you," she babbled, "and I couldn't find you and I didn't know who they were and I was afraid they were going to kill you." She took a step back from him and bit her lip, looking up at him through her lashes. "I thought I could rescue you." And she looked down at the floor, embarrassed.

Yuri was silent for a moment, then he and his men started to laugh. Sasha looked around at the group and big tears welled up in her eyes and slid down her cheeks.

"Oh Sasha!" he laughed and put his arms around her, kissing her on the top of the head. He turned to then men and spoke rapidly in Russian. The men disappeared, some going down to the cellar, some out the back door.

Yuri took Sasha by the hand and took her into his office. Wrapping his arms around her, he picked her up off the floor and spun her around. "Tonight's the night, my little love!" he crowed. "Tonight we get rid of Ramon and I become a rich and powerful man!"

"But I thought you had to wait for your merchandise to be delivered?" Sasha asked innocently.

"Hernandez will pick it up tomorrow morning in New Orleans and we'll all be rich!" He spun her around again laughing triumphantly. He put her back on her feet and fisted his hand in her hair, pulling her head back. His mouth came down on hers, in a brutal kiss and he forced his tongue into her mouth.

Yuri shoved his hand into the V neck of her sweater, his fingers slipping into her bra, squeezing her breast … and he froze. He lifted his mouth from hers and she watched his eyes turn from lust filled to murderous. He straightened and she tried to step away from him but he held her fast in a vice-like grip.

Never taking his eyes from hers, he slowly pulled his fingers out of her bra and held up his hand, the tiny microphone dangling from his fingers. Her eyes flicked from his to the mic and back again. In that second he shoved her away from him with such force that she hit the wall, banging her head. Trapped there, with Yuri between her and the door, she had no way out.

"You fucking cunt," he roared. "Who do you work for, you bitch? Escobar? Hernandez? Mikhailov?" He looked at the mic before he threw it down and ground it into the floor with his foot. "Are you're a Fed? Shit! You are, aren't you?"

He bellowed at the top of his lungs, calling for his men to come back upstairs. His face red and his eyes blazing, he half turned away from her, balling up his fist and pulling his arm back to punch her. She turned her head and raised her arm to ward off the blow but as he stepped in to punch her, she swung her foot back and kicked him in the balls with everything she had in her. He stood stunned for a second and then dropped like a rock. She was out the office door before he hit the floor.

Yuri's men were pounding up the stairs from the cellar into the kitchen, and the only other escape route on this floor was through the dining room to the front door. But the front door was locked and short of crashing through the glass, there was no way out. Instead, she hit the back stairs to the second floor, scrambling up the steps on all fours, her heart in her throat, her pulse hammering in her ears. She made it into the private dining room with the fire escape outside the window, but the window wouldn't budge. Her escape was on the other side of the glass, and she couldn't get to it.

Desperate, she flew out into the hall again, looking for a way out. She could hear Yuri's men fanning out through the building, searching for her, calling to one another as they cleared room after room. She prayed all the way up to the third floor, her prayers answered when she managed to get the window to the fire escape open just far enough to squeeze out. The snow had stopped, but the first icy blast of wind took her breath away and she had to hold on tight to the railings as she quickly made her way down the slick steps.

She was almost to the second floor when two of Yuri's men came out the back door into the alley and she froze. In an effort to step back into the shadows, her feet slid out from under her and she stumbled, slipping on the stairs and falling onto her knees. The men looked up at the noise and the falling clumps of snow, yelling to their buddies when they saw her in the dim light. Guns in hand, they pulled down the ladder to climb up after her, firing at her retreating back.

Adrenaline pumping through her body and expecting a bullet to hit her any second, Stephanie flew back up the fire escape to the roof. Despite the wind, she didn't even feel the cold as she raced to the door that led to the interior stairs. She could hear voices echoing up the stairwell and she quickly slammed the door shut. Searching for anything she could use to jam it closed, she found a metal bar leaning up on the brick rim that ran around the edge of the roof. She dragged it over and jammed it through the door handle just as somebody tried to pull the door open from the inside. She could hear them cursing on the other side of the door.

Scanning the roof, she realized that she was trapped; there was no way off except straight down. If she could only get to the roofs on the other side of the alley, she might be able to escape down one of the fire escapes there. The alley wasn't that wide, maybe, just maybe …

She stood on the roof in the pitch black of the moonless night and fought the panic that curled in her belly as she watched Yuri's men climb over the edge of the roof, making up her mind for her. Maybe she could fly after all … Strangely calm, she took a deep breath and ran the length of the roof as fast and hard as she could, launching herself off the brick rim, arms spread, feet treading thin air as her momentum carried her up and out, over the alley to land on the roof across the way.

Her knees buckled under her as soon as her feet hit the snow covered tar paper, and she dropped and rolled like a movie stunt man. A spray of bullets kicked up the snow all around her as she scrambled behind the large air conditioning unit. She could hear the bullets zing over her head and ricochet off the metal as she gulped in lungfuls of frigid air. She had a sudden desire to laugh that she made it across the alley, but she wasn't safe yet.

The buildings on this side of the passageway were so close together that she was able to run across the rooftops here. She darted from cover to cover, shadow to shadow to the last building, then down the fire escape to freedom. She ran for almost three blocks before her legs started to give out on her, and she ducked into another alley to regroup and catch her breath.

She leaned over and braced her hands on her knees, her breath coming in ragged gasps and her heart thundering in her chest. Somewhere along the line she had lost her gun, but at least she still had her sat phone and she pulled it out to call Max and Ranger. Not wanting to give Yuri's men a chance to catch up to her, she pushed out of the alleyway looking back down the street to make sure that they hadn't found her.

She glanced over her shoulder again as she approached the next corner. As she turned back, two men in ski masks stepped out in front of her, their guns pointing at the middle of her forehead.

"Yuri is looking for you," one said. And they both started to laugh.

_**Ranger and Stephanie were friends and lovers and partners.**_

_**They were six weeks, two days, seventeen hours, and eleven minutes into her plan to save him, and now, their time was running out!**_

_**TBC …**_

_**A/N: Only one more chapter to go. Thank you to all of the wonderful readers who left such sensational reviews for Game. I can't tell you how much each and every one means to me. Ranger, Steph, the Merry Men, and all the supporting cast of characters would like to thank you for your kind words and for sticking with us for a whole year. **_

_**I've had a wonderful time weaving this story, thank you for taking this journey with me. My next story, which will be shorter and simpler, I swear, will start in a couple of weeks. If you want to be alerted to the start of 'What I Did For Love' please click the author alert button at the end of the chapter. Oh, and please leave a review, too! I'm still a shameless review slut!!! LOL!**_


	39. Battleground!

_**Disclaimer: Everyone belongs to Janet Evanovich except the ones that are mine, and I'm just playing.**_

_**Warnings: LANGUAGE, VIOLENCE, SEXUAL ASSAULT, All 12 books.**_

_**A/N: My thanks to the most special group of ladies on the planet: to Karen, my fabulous Editor, Luisa, Brain Stormer and Translator Extraordinario, and Lindsay my Voice of Reason, Lisa for making me laugh, Beth C. for feeding me, and all the BC & PP & BCRUS girls for support, friendship, suggestions, hand holding, cheer leading and general ass kicking. Game wouldn't be without you.**_

_**Thank you to all of you wonderful readers and reviewers! I've tried to answer each and every review that you've sent. You've all made my Inner Review Slut very happy!**_

_**Don't forget to read Kashy's fabulous 'Keep The Faith' … you don't want to miss it! Read and review them please, you'll be glad you did! **_

_**I APOLOGIZE FOR NOT BEING ABLE TO END THIS IN ONE CHAPTER, LIKE I THOUGHT I COULD. I'M JUST TOO LONG WINDED AND IT'LL TAKE ANOTHER CHAPTER TO TIE THIS ALL UP. THANKS FOR BEARING WITH ME … I APPRECIATE YOUR UNDERSTANDING!**_

_**STAYCE**_

_**The Name Of The Game!**_

_**By Stayce (XJerseyGirl)**_

_**Chapter 39: Battleground!**_

_**- 5 -**_

Fear coiled like a snake in her belly as Stephanie looked from the two ski masked gunmen to the two large guns they were pointing at her. Her first instinct was to run, and if there had only been one guy and one gun, she would have turned and beat feet as fast as she could. But looking down the barrels of two guns? The situation was pretty hopeless and the thought of being shot down in a hail of bullets in the middle of the street in Brighton Beach just wasn't the way she planned on getting to Heaven.

She sighed in resignation and dropped her head, slowly raising her hands in surrender. Maybe they wouldn't kill her right away and she'd have a chance to escape later on. If she ran now, she was dead for sure.

The shorter of the two guys tucked his gun into the back of his waistband and stepped toward her.

"Look out for her feet," the other goon said. "She's a real nut crusher. Yuri'll be pissin' blood for a week!"

They both chuckled as Goon #1 grabbed her by the arm and spun her around, slamming her, face first, into the wall of the nearest building, while Goon #2 kept his gun trained on her. She groaned as her cheek made contact with the rough brick. The sat phone was snatched out of her hand and her feet kicked wide apart as the guy pinned her, spread eagle, to the side of the building and started to pat her down.

She squeezed her eyes shut and pressed her face against the brick, letting her mind wander, trying to find a happy place to hide in while he pawed her. It didn't work and a shudder of disgust passed through her body and her stomach roiled. He started at her ankles and worked his way up and around to the inside of her legs, rubbing her thighs and groping her ass, making lewd comments under his breath.

When he got up to her waist, he suddenly leaned his weight against her, pushing her into the wall, grinding himself against her behind. "No wonder Yuri couldn't wait to get in your pants, Sasha," he whispered in her ear, "you got a nice tight little ass."

He laughed as he ran his fingers around the waistband of her slacks, trying to get his hands inside. She said a silent prayer of thanks that she had pulled her belt an extra notch tighter when she got dressed that morning. He finally gave up and satisfied himself by running his hands down over her belly to her crotch, cupping her and lifting her slightly.

"That feel good, baby? You like that?" He pressed his fingers against her. "I could show you a real good time."

He finally let her go and slid his hands up under her sweater, moving up over her ribcage to maul her breasts. He fingered her nipples, hard from the frigid air, through her bra.

"Cold, Sasha, or am I turning you on?" he hissed, his Russian accent thick in her ear. "I could warm you up real good!"

"Hey!" Goon #2 hollered. "Hurry up, Alexi! You're playing around and I'm freezing my balls off here!"

Fisting his hand in her hair, her tormentor hauled her head back so far onto his shoulder that her mouth opened in a gasp. He crushed his mouth down on hers and he plunged his tongue between her lips. The smell from the wet wool of his ski mask and alcohol and cigarettes from his breath assailed her and she gagged, choking on the bile that rose in her throat. She pulled away from him and, raising her eyes to look straight into his, she spit right in his ski-masked face.

He cursed her and tightened his hand in her hair, giving her head a hard shake, this time sending her temple into the brick. "You're gonna be sorry you did that, _baby, _I coulda been a real good friend. You're gonna need one!" He hauled her away from the wall, grabbing her wrist and twisting it, wrenching her arm up behind her back.

When she cried out in pain, he snorted, "If you think this hurts, wait until Yuri gets his hands on you!" and he dragged her around the corner to an Escalade that sat idling at the curb. The goon opened the back door and shoved her down onto the floor, then climbed in after her. Leaning back, he stretched his arms out across the back of the seat, putting one booted foot heavily on her back and the other on her butt to hold her down on the floor. The other thug got behind the wheel and they took off down the snowy street, taking her to Yuri.

Stephanie lay on floor of the vehicle, incapable of controlling the shivers that now racked her body. With her adrenaline high wearing off, cold and fear and exhaustion were taking their toll on her and she was losing her will to fight, almost ready to resign herself to her fate… almost, but not quite.

She realized how wet and cold she really was. Her fingers and toes were numb, her lungs were on fire and her legs ached from all the running. Her clothes were soaked from being out in the snow; her hair was plastered to her head and she fought the urge to cry. And the worst part of it all was that she'd never had a chance to warn Ranger.

Somehow, through the numbness, it registered that they weren't headed back to the restaurant; the SUV had turned in the wrong direction. As near as she could tell, they were going toward the beach. Yuri was too smart to have her brought back to the Maryushka. Probably he had already found the bugs in his office and he and his gang had cleared out of the place before the Feds could get there. Yuri didn't know that RangeMan had been listening in, too. At least there was someone who knew that Yuri had put his plan into action. The Merry Men would protect Ranger; they'd warn him that Yuri was coming.

If she turned her head slightly, she could see out the window. It had started to snow again and here and there she could see windows lit up in the passing apartment buildings. Smart people, she thought, safe and warm at home. _There isn't going to be any safe and warm for you tonight,_ a little voice told herLike it or not, she knew it was true and she put her head down on the floor of the car and closed her eyes.

The guy who was driving the SUV was a real cowboy, speeding through Brighton Beach, going way too fast for the road conditions. Stephanie could feel the heavy vehicle fishtail on the slippery streets, and skid so badly that Alexi, the guy who sat with his feet on her, yelled at the driver to slow down before he got them all killed. The driver just laughed and made some crack about living on the edge.

At this point, Stephanie didn't care. She prayed that they would crash into something, anything, that would make them stop and give her the opportunity to bolt and run. She didn't know how far she'd get, but she knew she had to try. She wished she still had her gun. She would have shot the driver right through the back of the seat, car crash be damned! She'd rather die that way than at Yuri's hands.

The SUV slowed slightly and made a sharp turn. Stephanie heard the tires crunch on gravel as they bumped over a pothole pitted road. The Escalade skidded to a stop and Driver Thug got out. He threw open the back door of the SUV, and motioned with the gun in his hand. "Get out," he growled at her as he pulled up the collar of his jacket, hunching his shoulders against the wind and snow.

She looked out the open door and was surprised to see that they were at the building site where she and the team had rescued Zoë Thrasher. It was guarded, fenced, private … no one would hear her cries for help … there wouldn't be anyone galloping to her rescue here.

The guy sitting in back booted her in the ass, "Come on, hurry up! Get outta the car! You got a date with Yuri!"

Stephanie decided that if she was going to make a break for it, it would be to her advantage to have these guys think that she was too weak and exhausted to make another escape attempt. She put on a good show of being too sapped to get out of the SUV by herself. But instead of helping her, the driver just leaned in and grabbed a handful of her sweater, hauling her out of the back seat and dumping her on the snow covered gravel, knocking the breath out of her. She made a feeble attempt to get to her feet, only making it to her hands and knees because her legs really were still rubbery from all the running she had done.

The driver bent down and wrapped a gloved hand around her upper arm, pulling her up. Escape or not, she wasn't going to make this easy for them, and she let him lift her full weight. Once on her feet, she let her knees buckle again, and she sank back down to the ground. He cursed under his breath and barked, "Alexi! Get your ass out here and give me hand! We gotta get her inside, Yuri's waiting!"

Alexi climbed out of the back seat and together they lifted her under the arms and jerked her to her feet, practically dragging her into the building. Once inside, she was shoved along ahead of them and she stumbled through the dimly lit first floor to the back wall and into the freight elevator.

Alexi pulled down the heavy metal gate that closed with the ominous clang of a jail cell. _The death chamber, _she thought. The other thug pressed the fifth floor button and the elevator started to move slowly upward. Stephanie sagged weakly against the side of the elevator, head down, looking totally spent. As the elevator approached the fifth floor, they pulled her away from the wall of the car. She swayed, barely able to stand, and the two men took up position on either side of her, holding her arms to keep her on her feet.

The elevator came to a stop with a jerk and another ski masked thug opened the gate for them. Her captors lugged her out of the car, supporting most of her weight while another guy jogged to the other side of the building and called for Yuri. As Stephanie watched through the curtain of hair that hung in her face, Yuri came out of the small room where Zoë had been held for ransom. She saw that he was bent over slightly and limping. She had to fight a smile as she congratulated herself on a job well done. She had gotten him good … it was just what the bastard deserved.

"You bitch!" he bellowed when he saw her, his face contorted with hate and rage. "You lying whore! I'm gonna cut your tongue out!" he roared. "I'm gonna make you sorry you were ever born! I'm gonna show you what real pain is, you fucking cunt. You'll be begging me to kill you!" He was red faced and vibrating with anger as he stalked toward her, closing the distance between them.

Alexi let go of her arm and stepped away from her, out of the line of fire. The other guy turned his head, obviously not wanting to see what Yuri had in store for her.

The closer he got, the faster Yuri moved, his fury overriding his pain from her earlier assault. The dim light glinted off something in his hand and Stephanie realized that he was holding a butterfly knife. She focused on the knife as he flipped it open and closed, twirling in his hand. "Hold her head up," Yuri yelled to the guy holding her arm, "I want her to see me when I cut her!" The thug grabbed a handful of her hair and pulled her head back so that Yuri could see her eyes.

"Just wait until I finish with your face, Sasha or whatever the hell your name is. Even your mother won't be able to recognize you," he laughed madly. "Maybe I'll just cut your eyes out … Come on Sasha, let's play!" The tip of the knife blade was pointed right at her eye and she felt a jolt of adrenaline spike through her. Suddenly, she was alert, her mind no longer tired or fuzzy, but sharp and clear. _Decision time, Stephanie_, Ranger's voice said inside her head. _Is your life worth fighting for?_

Stephanie gritted her teeth and with the force of all her fear and anger behind her, she kicked out at Yuri and connected … again! The knife clattered to the floor and skittered to a stop right in front of her. Yuri froze for a split second, his eyes bulging. He staggered back a few steps, letting out a long, high pitched scream as his hands went to his crotch. He dropped to his knees, fell over onto his side and curled into a fetal position.

While Yuri's men stared down at him in shock, Stephanie was galvanized into action. She spun to the side and cold cocked the guy who was holding her arm, punching him right in the face. She felt a satisfying crunch as his nose broke under her fist and he yelped in pain. His hands flew to his face and as he bent from the waist, she caught a glimpse of blood leaking through his fingers.

Fueled by the adrenaline that coursed through her body, Stephanie scooped up Yuri's butterfly knife and took off, racing across the fifth floor as fast as her feet would carry her. The open front of the apartment building had been enclosed, and the walls on this floor had been studded out and partially sheet rocked. There were new piles of building materials and tools all over the place, but she still remembered where the interior stairs were and hoped that she would have a least a few seconds head start before Yuri's thugs came after her.

She hit the door to the stairwell running full tilt and she slammed through the door and practically fell down one flight of stairs before anyone had a chance to follow her. When she got to the third floor landing she stopped to listen for a second, but she had trouble hearing anything except her own thundering heartbeat.

Not wanting to chance getting caught on the stairs if there were men coming up from below, Stephanie made a split second decision to cut across the third floor to the other interior stairway on the opposite side of the building. With a quick glance back up the stairs, she picked up a small crate and tossed it down the steps, hoping the noise would make her pursuers think that she had continued down to the next level.

She opened the stairwell door and slipped into the dark third floor, easing the door shut so that it closed silently. Crouching down behind a stack of sheetrock, she tried to listen again, to make sure that she was alone on this floor. She concentrated, but all she could hear was the air rasping in and out of her lungs. Running her hands over her face, she tried to focus her thoughts on what Ranger would do in the same situation. _Focus on the goal, Babe, _she could hear his voice say, _and your goal is to get out of here alive. _

Finally, she took a deep breath and blew it out slowly, wishing that she could be as Zen-like as Ranger always was … all cool and calm and logical. She smiled to herself when she realized that she was able to hear the heavy footsteps that pounded down the stairs to the ground floor. She stayed in her hiding place, forcing herself to breathe slowly, and waited until the sounds faded away. Careful not to make any noise, she picked her way through the stacks of building supplies, making her way toward the stairway door on the far side of that level.

An idea struck her as she passed one of the work tables and she quickly hunted through the tools, looking for something she could use as a weapon. She slid the butterfly knife into her pocket; somehow she just couldn't see herself using a knife on anyone. Picking up a hammer, she hefted it in her hand, nodding to herself. It wouldn't do much of anything against a gun, but up close and personal, it had definite possibilities. A screwdriver got slipped through her belt like a pirate sword. It made her feel a little better that at least she had _something_ to defend herself with.

Hammer in hand, she went to the stairway door and cracked it open. It was silent in the stairwell, so she carefully slipped through the door, closing it quietly, and headed down the stairs toward the ground floor.

_**- 4 -**_

She made it all the way to the second floor and was about to start down the last flight when out of the corner of her eye, she caught movement… the door opened and a shadow slipped out onto the dark landing.

Stephanie started to turn and raise the hammer, but before she even had a chance to move, the shadow rushed her and clamped an arm around her waist, pinning her arms to her sides, his other hand clapped over her mouth. In the blink of an eye, he had jerked her up off her feet, and spun her away from the stairs, hauling her back into a dark corner.

She twisted her head from side to side and was finally able to bite down as hard as she could on the hand that covered her mouth. He captor tried to pull away, but she sank her teeth into him until the coppery taste of his blood hit her tongue. He cursed her and his fingers bit cruelly into her cheeks, forcing her jaws apart. As soon as she let go, he flung her away from him, savagely throwing her down onto the floor, kicking out at her and catching her in the back with his heavy boot. The hammer flew out of her hand and she could hear it thump down the steps, the echo bouncing off the stairwell walls.

She fought him frantically, kicking and punching and scratching at him. She couldn't get to the screwdriver in her belt, and the knife in her pocket was out of reach so she used her feet and hands to fight him instead. She twisted away from him and was almost able to scramble to her feet when he kicked her in the ribs. She fell over onto her back and he immediately threw himself on top of her. The more she struggled, the more excited he got and she could feel his growing erection pressing into her thigh. Bottling up the scream that rose in her throat, she knew that it wouldn't bring help, only more of Yuri's thugs.

"That's right, baby, you keep fighting me. I like the way you're moving under me. I bet you're a wild little thing, aren't you?" he grunted in her ear as he tried to pin her to the floor. "I just wanna have a little fuck before I give you back to Yuri. You won't be in any shape to play after he gets done with you."

Stephanie recognized his voice. It was Alexi, the one who had groped her out on the street, the one she had spit on. The name didn't mean anything to Stephanie, but still, there was something familiar about him.

He sat up and straddled her, pulling off his heavy winter coat and tossing it aside. He was playing with her now, waiting for her to wear herself out grappling with him. Finally he had enough fun and said, "Okay, hold still, baby, time to play nice." She twisted, trying to throw him off her and he snarled, "I told you to cut it out but you don't listen!"

He raised his fist to punch her and when her hands automatically came up to shield her face, he grabbed them, pinning them together in one of his big beefy paws. With his other hand, he unbuckled his belt and pulled it off, looping it around her wrists, pulling it tight, then he knotted it around the railing and tied her hands over her head.

He pulled the ski mask off his head and grinned down at her in the dim light. She recognized him as the guy that she had knocked out of the building when she and her team were rescuing Zoë. At the time she had been terrified that she had killed him, now she was sorry she hadn't. He obviously didn't recognize her … not that it mattered. What he had planned for her couldn't get much worse and Stephanie's heart stuttered in her chest at the thought of what he was going to do to her.

Alexi fisted a hand into her hair to hold her head still and bent to kiss her. She clenched her teeth and pressed her lips tightly together when his cruel mouth came down on hers. While his one hand twisted in her hair, his other went to her breast, squeezing hard, his fingers biting into her flesh. She couldn't help but whimper in pain, and when she did, he stuck his tongue halfway down her throat. _Asshole, _she thought,_ you just don't learn! _and she bit his tongue. He pulled away from her with a curse and slapped her across the face as hard as he could. She felt her lip split and stars burst behind her eyelids at the impact.

"I was gonna treat you good, baby, fuck you nice and slow. But after that little stunt, you don't deserve it. I think you need a little pain to teach you a lesson." He whipped a bandana out of his pocket, "I know just how to muzzle a bitch like you!" Stephanie thrashed her head from side to side making it as hard as she could for him to gag her, but then he slapped her again and she was too dazed to fight him anymore.

Hot tears of rage and frustration welled up and spilled out of her eyes as she lay there on the cold concrete floor. If she could just get her hands loose, she thought, she'd be more than willing to use that knife on this bastard. It almost scared her, how much she hated him and wanted him dead … wanted to stab him, shoot him, beat him to death with her bare hands.

Alexi licked his thick lips and leered down at her as he shoved her sweater and bra up over her breasts, mauling her brutally. His breathing was ragged and he was getting more excited by the second as he stripped her. He got rid of her boots and had just pulled her pants off of her legs when they heard a noise on the stairs below them.

Pulling his gun, Alexi stood up and stepped back into the shadowy corner just as another one of Yuri's men came up the stairs to the landing, holding Stephanie's hammer. He stopped and looked down at her, lying there half naked, then up at the man who stepped out of the shadows.

"You found her, you lucky bastard," the second man said as he slapped Alexi on the back, congratulating him. "You had a taste of her yet? You gonna share with a buddy?" He slung his arm around Alexi's shoulders.

Alexi smiled and lowered his gun, gesturing toward Stephanie. "Yuri said whoever found her could have her first. Maybe I'll let you have a turn when I'm done with her." He handed the second guy his gun. "Here, hold this for me. I don't wanna give the little wildcat a chance to blow my brains all over the wall! It's bad enough she has teeth and claws!" and the two men chuckled.

"Ah! You know it's always better when they fight!" the second guy said.

Alexi turned back to Stephanie, shoved her legs apart and knelt down between them. A shudder passed through her as he ran his hands up the inside her thighs and over the front of her panties, curling his fingers into the lace, pulling them down. His attention was focused on getting the panties off of her, getting her naked.

She'd never felt so helpless in her life. She had fought as hard as she could, but it wasn't good enough and now there was no hope of escaping. As tears blurred her vision, she looked for something else to focus on and turned her head away, trying to shut out the feel of Alexi's hands on her, to deny everything that was happening to her. The other guy had stepped up behind Alexi, watching him, waiting to take his turn at her, she thought wretchedly.

She caught sight of the hammer in the second guy's hands and just stared at it. She watched him numbly as he took a stance behind Alexi and raised the hammer in both hands. He brought it up high over his shoulder and swung it down like a golf club. He put all of his weight behind the swing and the hammer connected with the back of her attacker's head, shattering his skull with a sickening thud. Blood splattered everywhere and she gasped in surprise as it pelted her skin. Alexi pitched forward and his full weight collapsed onto Stephanie, almost crushing her. If she hadn't been gagged, she would have screamed her head off.

Picking him up by the back of his shirt and pants, the man hauled the body off Stephanie and dropped it next to her. She turned and looked into Alexi's face, his jaw slack, his dead eyes looking straight into hers. It wasn't until she felt the pain in her chest that she realized that she was holding her breath in shock. As if in slow motion, her eyes moved from Alexi's up to the killer's and she wondered dazedly if she was going to meet the same fate as Alexi.

The man took a step toward her and Stephanie tried to scramble away from him. She pulled on the belt tying her hands to the railing and managed to get herself up into a sitting position, tugging at the leather, trying frantically to break loose. The man watched for a second, then said something to her, but she couldn't hear his whispered words over the sound of her own pulse pounding in her ears.

She got very still when he crouched in front of her, the bloody hammer in his hands. _You have to do everything you can to save your own life_, a voice repeated over and over in her head, that's what Ranger had told her when Karvic had kidnapped her all those months ago. _Do whatever it is you have to do to stay alive, _he had told her. Ranger always knew the right thing to do; she had to listen to Ranger.

The man cupped her face in his hands and tilted her head so she had to look at him. Stephanie tried to shrink back, but there was no place left to go. His lips were moving, she heard him speaking, but she just couldn't seem to process what he was saying. She could hear whimpering now, and she realized that it was coming from her. There was nothing she could do to stop it and she knew she was losing her battle with hysteria. Finally he grabbed her by the shoulders and shook her so hard her head snapped back and forth.

"Stephanie! Stephanie! Look at me!" he ordered as he untied the gag and pulled it out of her mouth.

He whipped off his ski mask and when Stephanie finally looked at him, she thought that her mind was playing tricks on her and she was seeing things, that her fear had driven her over the edge of sanity. All the fight went out of her as she looked at him.

"M … M … Max?" her voice sounded small and far away to her own ears. "Max?" she sobbed. "Max!" And she collapsed against him. She curled against his chest and cried.

He wrapped his arms around her and rocked her gently. "Shhhh, Sweetheart, it's gonna be okay. He can't hurt you anymore." He held her tightly and pressed his lips to the top of her head. "Let me untie you and then we're gonna get you dressed. I'm sorry Steph, but we have to get the outta here, fast."

Max carefully unwrapped the belt from her wrists and her pale hands fell limply into her lap. She looked at him with confusion written all over her face, "My hands don't want to work," she told him in surprise, tears still spilling down her face. "It'll be okay Steph, give them a minute." He gently massaged her numb fingers, helping to bring the feeling back to her hands.

When she could flex her fingers, he quickly collected her clothes and knelt in front of her again. Pulling her sweater back down to cover her, he helped her put on the rest of her clothes. He got her boots on her and pulled her to her feet, wrapping his arms around her and holding her tightly when he realized how hard she was trembling.

"Listen to me, Stephanie," he whispered as he held her close, running his hands over her back, "I know you've been through a lot, but we have to get out of here right now. Yuri's men don't realize that you're still in the building; they think you're outside so that's where they're looking for you. We're gonna have to walk right past them to get out of here. Are you gonna be able to do that?"

Stephanie looked up at Max and took a deep, shuddering breath, "I think so."

"I know you can, Sweetheart. Look, I have a plan. You and Alexi are about the same height. You're gonna put on his ski mask and his coat and gloves, and we're gonna go out there and search for you, too." He looked down at her pale face in the dim light. "Are you following me? Do you understand what I'm telling you?" He was relieved when she nodded in reply. She was a lot stronger than she had any idea she was, he decided with admiration. Ranger was a lucky man.

While he explained his plan to her, Max helped Stephanie pull the ski mask over her head and then bundled her into Alexi's coat, zipping it up to her chin and pulling the collar up. He slipped Yuri's Sig into her pocket and she helped him drag Alexi's body to the other side of the landing and stuff it under the stairs. They made their way down to the ground floor and stopped just inside the emergency exit door.

"Okay, Sweetheart, tell me what you're supposed to do when we get outside," he whispered.

"I'm going to pretend to search the SUVs that are parked out front. I'm going to take the keys and lock the doors. You're gonna try to get Yuri's men to go back inside to search the building and then we're gonna get into the Escalade and get the hell outta Dodge," she recited.

"Good girl," he whispered and kissed the top of her ski masked head.

Max pulled the outer door open and went over to the knot of men standing by the front door and Stephanie went in the opposite direction. The SUVs that Yuri planned to use to transport his men to Ramon's compound were parked nose to tail, in a line in front of the building. Stephanie went down to the last vehicle and made a show of opening each door, climbing in, and looking around. Taking the keys out of the ignition, she pocketed them and then locked all the doors on each vehicle.

Stephanie was surprised to find the back of each SUV loaded with all kinds of weapons, from guns to grenades, and she realized for the first time just how serious Yuri was about taking over Ramon's organization. She had seriously underestimated the man, thinking that he was just a blowhard and a buffoon. From the looks of it though, he was also a man ready to wage war on whoever got in the way of what he wanted.

By the time she got to the front of the line, the bunch had broken up. Most of the guys had gone inside to search the building, wanting to be the first to find Sasha. A couple of the braver ones had gone to look around the construction site, unfazed by the weather.

Max strolled over to her, pretending to be looking around for Sasha. "I have an idea that might buy us all a little more time. You get in the truck; I'll only be a minute." She watched as he took his gun out and screwed a silencer onto the muzzle. He held it down straight down, tight to his leg as he walked back to the locked SUVs.

Stephanie climbed into the passenger seat of the Escalade and waited for Max. She turned to watch him out the rear window as he jogged down the line of vehicles and fired a bullet into each of the tires. The soft popping sound of the silenced weapon was lost in the wind, and would have gone completely unnoticed if a couple of the men hadn't picked that exact moment to walk out the door.

"Hey! What the hell are you doing?" one of them yelled at Max. They all pulled their weapons and started after him.

"Shit!" Stephanie yelled out loud and she climbed over the center console into the driver's seat. Her hands were shaking as she turned the key and the Escalade roared to life. "Okay, you can do this!" she pep talked herself, "They do this in the movies all the time. How hard can it be?" Slamming the gearshift into drive, she pulled out of the line of vehicles, then shifted into reverse. Slinging her arm over the seat, she looked out the rear window to back down and pick up Max. The tires spun before they caught and she wound up roaring backwards to where the last SUV was parked. She could hear the gunshots as Max and Yuri's men exchanged fire.

She stomped on the brakes, skidding to a halt as Max pulled open the rear door and threw himself into the back yelling, "GO! GO! GO!" as he slammed the door. Alerted by the gunfire, Yuri's men spilled out of the building and the SUV was in danger of being surrounded. Stephanie threw the vehicle into gear and floored it. Men stood in the driveway with their guns pointed directly at the windshield and Stephanie felt like she was facing a firing squad. She let out a scream as bullets hit the windshield right in front of her, but when they pinged off, she realized that the glass was bulletproof and she let out a whoop of triumph and relief.

The Escalade rocketed toward the gunmen, showing no sign of slowing down. The men scattered as she bulldozed through them, a few braver souls holding their ground, only leaping out of the way at the last possible second. She plowed through a small snowbank and fishtailed, showering the lot of them with gravel as she skidded around a turn.

By the time Max had climbed over the seats and slid down next to her, Stephanie could see that the heavy metal security gate had been closed across the only exit from the construction site. There was no time to stop and try to open it. She glanced over at Max and then in the rear view at the men who were chasing after them, shooting at the back of the vehicle. Max pulled on his seatbelt and yelled, "Go for it, Sweetheart!"

Stephanie took a white-knuckle grip on the steering wheel and she floored the Escalade, aiming at the gate. The SUV blasted through the fence at almost 90 MPH, ripping the gate right off the posts and sending it flying through the air over the roof of the SUV and clattering to the ground behind them. They roared out of the construction yard and screeched onto the street, leaving Yuri's men standing in their wake, watching their tail lights fade into the distance.

_**Ranger and Stephanie were friends and lovers and partners.**_

_**They were six weeks, three days, sixteen hours, and thirty-seven minutes into her plan to save him, and now, their time was running out!**_

_**TBC …**_

_**A/N: Again my apologies for not ending Game in one chapter. There was just no way I could fit in everything I wanted to. So with luck, it'll be done in a week, if Real Life gives me a break.**_

_**Thank you for all your wonderful reviews, suggestions, and advice. I don't know how I could have written this story without your support and encouragement. You guys ROCK!**_

**_Review Slut that I am, let me know how you think this story is going to end! In a review, of course ...LOL!_**

_**Stayce**_


	40. Final Jeopardy!

Chapter 40: Final Jeopardy

_**Disclaimer: Everyone belongs to Janet Evanovich except the ones that are mine, and I'm just playing.**_

_**Warnings: LANGUAGE, VIOLENCE, All 12 books.**_

_**A/N: My thanks to the most special group of ladies on the planet: to Karen, Super Editor & Friend who puts up with my sappy Ranger and Wonder Woman Steph, Lindsay, who beats me with the Show, Not Tell Stick, on a regular basis, Luisa, Brain Stormer and Translator Extraordinario, Lisa for Caring about me, Beth C. for the Food and Shopping trips that keep me sane, Linda for letting me cry on her shoulder, and all the BC & PP & BCRUS & FF girls for support, friendship, suggestions, hand holding, cheer leading and general ass kicking and reviews. Game wouldn't be without you.**_

_**Thank you to all of you wonderful readers and reviewers! I've tried to answer each and every review that you've sent. You've all made my Inner Review Slut very happy!**_

_**I SCREWED UP AGAIN AND I'M GOING TO HAVE TO POST YET ANOTHER CHAPTER. REAL LIFE HAS STEPPED IN TO MESS UP THE SCHEDULE. BUT I SWEAR THAT NEXT TUESDAY WILL BE IT!! THANKS FOR UNDERSTANDING!**_

_**STAYCE **_

_**The Name Of The Game!**_

_**By Stayce (XJerseyGirl)**_

_**Chapter 40: Final Jeopardy!**_

- 3 –

Stephanie and Max took full advantage of their head start and blew through every red light as they fought to escape Brighton Beach before Yuri's men could catch up with them. They both knew that as long as they kept their lead, they could get to Ramon's house before Yuri did.

Stephanie could have sworn that she held her breath until she got them out of New York and into Jersey, somehow feeling safer on home turf. Neither of them spoke a word; the only sounds in the vehicle were the slap of the windshield wipers and their own ragged breathing.

Her back was aching from sitting hunched over the steering wheel while she concentrated on the road ahead. Out of the corner of her eye she could see Max, turned in his seat, watching out the back window to see if Yuri's men were following them. Every few minutes he dialed both Ranger's and Hector's sat phones. So far, they weren't being followed, that was a good thing. But neither Ranger nor Hector answered their phone … that was not so good.

"Pull over at the first rest stop," Max ordered.

Stephanie was so startled by the sound of his voice that the SUV swerved a little. "We don't have time!" she snapped.

"We can't afford to get stuck out on the road in this kind of weather, not tonight, anyway." Max, the voice of reason. Stephanie didn't like it, but she couldn't argue with him.

By the time she pulled into a rest stop and parked in front of the gas pumps, though, her breathing was almost normal again. Her pulse no longer thrummed in her ears as her heart slid back down out of her throat and into her chest where it belonged, and she was finally able to loosen the white-knuckled death grip she had on the steering wheel. She flexed her numb fingers slowly, trying to get the blood flowing again and stretched to relieve the tension in her neck and shoulders. Heaving a huge sigh of relief she slumped back against the headrest and looked over at Max.

"Damn! We made it!" His voice was laced with surprise. "I really had my doubts there for a while." He flopped back against the seat and grinned at her. "Sweetheart, if I ever decide to rob a bank, you're driving the getaway car. I had no idea you could drive like that!"

She smiled back at him. "Me neither!" she said, then started to giggle in relief and he chuckled along with her. In seconds they were both doubled over, their laughter tinged with hysteria, relieving their pent up anxiety. Max gasped for breath and Stephanie wiped her eyes … both of them elated and still not able to believe that they had actually escaped from Yuri and his thugs.

While the Escalade was being gassed up, Stephanie dashed across the snowy parking lot and into the McDonald's next to the station. All her anxiety had been erased by her euphoria that her plan to save Ranger had actually worked, and had now been replaced by hunger. By the time the gas tank was filled, Stephanie was back, a quarter pounder shoved into her mouth and her arms loaded with bags.

This time she climbed into the passenger seat and Max got behind the wheel. In minutes they were on their way again, celebrating their escape with Big Macs and fries. Stephanie was still wearing Alexi's coat and found her sat phone in the pocket. She called Ranger first and then Hector, silently praying that one of them would answer. She snapped the phone shut in frustration. "It just keeps ringing. Hector always answers his phone, Max, I don't like this. I wish I knew what was going on." She stared out the window.

"It's probably something with the whole satellite system," Max said, trying to soothe her. "There's no reason to think that anything's wrong. This kind of weather messes up the reception."

Stephanie opened the phone and dialed again, startling Max when his cell phone rang. "So much for that theory," Steph looked at him, her earlier joy replaced by a jolt of fear so sharp it made her chest ache.

Max took his eyes off the road and looked into her stricken face. "Look, Steph, the cavalry is on its way. I called Tank as soon as I figured out what Yuri was up to and the guys were all saddled up, ready to ride, just waiting for the call. They might even get there before us."

Stephanie met his eyes. "You don't believe that any more than I do, Max. Stop blowing sunshine up my skirt," she said, bitterness creeping into her voice. She turned toward the window again, looking out at the swirling snow, doing a lousy job of trying to convince herself that everything was okay.

"So," said Max after a few minutes of silence, "you want to know what Tank told me? It's a good one, about our best buds, the Feds," he wheedled and looked at her with raised eyebrows.

She turned back to him and sighed. "Sure," she said wearily.

Max grinned at her. "Well," he started, "it seems that the Feds confirmed that this guy, George Abbot, that's the name Yuri gave Ramon, really is the buyer, and he's somebody who's been on their watch lists for years. They knew all along that he's been shopping for plutonium, but they just thought he was a crackpot. He used to send these rambling manifestos to the local papers and the Department of Defense and Homeland Security and the President and everybody."

"So they knew who he was all along?" Stephanie asked in surprise.

"Yup. And the local Bureau Chief assessed him as a 'non-threat.' I'm betting that guy's gonna be manning a desk in an igloo someplace above the Arctic Circle, doing threat assessments on penguins."

"Anyway," Max continued, "Georgie argued that the Constitutional right to bear arms extends to nuclear weaponry and that the government should provide every citizen with their very own nuclear device. Since the government didn't think that it was such a hot idea, Georgie decided to provide the weapons himself, a cottage industry, so to speak. Needless to say, everybody from the ATF to the Nuclear Regulatory Commission is on their way to Idaho to chat with George."

Stephanie shook her head slowly as it all sank in. "You mean all of this, this whole Lazarus Mission, was because of somebody who was dismissed as a harmless nutcase?" She was furious. "Ranger and his whole family, Hector, you, me, and God knows how many other people, we all got sucked into this because somebody in some office someplace was incompetent? This was all for _nothing_?" Tears of rage and frustration streamed down her cheeks, and she made no effort to wipe them away.

Max could only nod, there was nothing to say, no words to make it better, he could only sit there and listen to her cry it out, his gut in knots at her heart wrenching sobs. As for Stephanie, she let go of all the tears she had never allowed herself to cry, until finally, she sank back into her seat, her head throbbing and her body exhausted.

Max glanced in the rearview mirror and then over at Steph. "Hey!" Max said brightly, "you never asked how I managed to worm my way into Yuri's little Boy Scout troop. Don't you want to know how I turned up just in the nick of time to rescue you from Alexi?" He gave her a boyish grin and she knew he was trying to distract her.

She gave him a small smile. "So tell me, Miracle Max, how did you manage that?" She leaned the seat back and curled up, facing him, shivering despite the heat blasting in the vehicle.

"Well," he started, his voice quiet and calm as his eyes flicked up to the rearview again, "I caught up with you when you were going into the alley. I thought that was pretty weird since you always go in the front door of the restaurant, so I just followed a good ways behind you and tried to figure out what was going on. You went down the basement and I did, too. I watched Yuri pass out the weapons and …" By the time he got to the part where he had grabbed one of Yuri's ski masked thugs and sent him to his maker, swapped clothes with the guy, then dumped the body, Stephanie's eyes were closed and she was out like a light.

Max glanced up at the rearview and the three sets of headlights that were slowly but surely gaining on them.

RSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRS

Ranger walked slowly into the huge, darkened 'Throne Room' in Ramon's mansion, his footsteps echoing across the cold, black marble floors. He was antsy tonight, unusual for him. All his senses were on alert, as if he were waiting for something to happen. Maybe it was because these were his last hours here, he thought, and more than anything else, he wanted to burn this monstrosity to the ground so that he'd never have to see it again.

He'd been stuck in some real hell holes around the world; ugly, desperate, blood soaked places that even God had forgotten. Sometimes, though, it wasn't the place itself that he loathed, but what it represented, and he'd never hated anyone or anything as much as he hated this house. Living here, immersed in another man's life, was a constant reminder of everything he'd lost.

He leaned against an archway and looked around the massive room shaking his head. With its gilt mirrors and marble columns, it looked like a king's palace, not a house in New Jersey. At the far end was the raised dais with the carved throne sitting on top, arranged so that Ramon could always look down on anyone else in the room. The whole scene was framed on either side by the sweeping marble staircases that snaked up and around to form a balcony with a huge arched window behind it. A heavy tapestry, bearing the elaborate Escobar Family coat of arms, hung from the balcony over the throne and a domed ceiling rose above it. Dark red velvet draperies, antique weapons, and works of art hung on the walls, all designed to intimidate and impress. It stood as a testament to the ego of the man who owned in the house.

Ranger unconsciously twisted Ramon's Family signet ring on his finger, another of Ramon's habits that Ranger had adopted. The ring had been passed down from father to son for generations, and Ramon was never seen without it. It was his symbol of absolute authority over his organization. The ring, the throne, he may have thought of himself as a king, but all he really was, was a sociopath, drunk on power; a sick son of a bitch who got off on the fear and terror he could cause.

Ranger couldn't wait to shed Ramon's persona and his face. What a relief it would be to look into a mirror and see himself again. To shave his own face every morning instead of a madman's, to wear his own clothes, sleep in his own bed, wrapped around Stephanie. He turned and caught sight of himself in one of the huge mirrors. How strange it was, he thought, that when he looked at his reflection, he only saw Ramon, yet when Stephanie looked at him, she only saw Ranger. Maybe that's what love did for you. Maybe it let you see behind the mask to what really lies underneath.

No question about it, he knew how lucky he was. By some miracle, he would be leaving here tomorrow, his Lazarus Mission completed. No one was more surprised than he was that he had actually survived it. Twenty-six brave and skilled men before him had lost their lives on these missions, and he would be only the third man to make it home alive.

Home. Trenton, RangeMan, and Stephanie … she was his home. _Wait! Where the hell did that thought come from?_ He wasn't an emotional man, given to romantic or sentimental thoughts, that wasn't who he was. In fact, it had always been surprisingly easy for him to keep his emotions compartmentalized and closed off from the rest of his life.

On too many occasions his military experience had shown him the dangers of allowing emotions to override training and common sense. Never admitting want or need kept a man's focus sharp and the path to his goal clear and uncluttered. He always kept his emotions in check, focused on the task at hand, and always achieved his goal.

_Well, almost always_, he thought, allowing himself a small smile. He remembered the day that Stephanie Plum walked into that café and into his life and how that little Burg girl had rocked his world ever since. Oh, he battled himself for a couple of years over that one. He had resisted, fought it tooth and nail, and he lost, big time.

He still didn't know how it happened, but she took all of his self imposed rules and regulations, and without even realizing it, blew them right out of the water. She stripped away his tough guy veneer, crawled under his skin and exposed every emotional nerve he had ever buried.

And Einstein that _he_ was, his solution to that situation had been the infamous de Chooch Deal. He almost groaned out loud when he thought about what a disaster_ that _had been. As a military operation it rated right up there with the Bay of Pigs fiasco. A FUBAR, a cluster fuck of epic proportions. Not a single objective had been met and his whole strategy had been a complete and utter failure. Their one night together only magnified his want and need for her, it whetted his appetite, not satisfied it.

He chuckled out loud when he thought about it now. His second strategy … the 'No Price' thing. He thought he could have her in his life without _letting _her into his life. Another bust. He had tried his best, but he couldn't intimidate her, he couldn't impress her, hell, he couldn't even seduce her! Little Mary Sunshine was really a pit bull in disguise and he was the bone … okay, bonehead.

Stephanie turned out to be the strategist. She had held out against everything he threw at her, money, cars, jobs, sex, she held out against _him_, the mercenary, the opportunist. She never set a trap, never went on the offensive, she just let him wear himself out fighting the inevitable. Once he was willing to offer her everything she wanted… love, loyalty, respect, commitment, she gave that all that back and more. He always said that she chased him until he caught her. He had to laugh at himself … he thought he was so smart, so slick. He told her once that he had the weight and the muscle, but she had the power, and he had been right. It just took him a while to realize it.

What got him more than anything else, though, was that after everything he put her through, all the pain, the loss, the heartbreak, that she was still willing to stand beside him and lay her life on the line to make sure he got out of this mess alive. He built a life with her and then stripped her of just about everything she knew and loved, and still, there she was, ready and willing to do whatever it took to help him. What had he ever done to deserve that kind of loyalty? And how could he ever repay it?

They had been happy and in love, they were friends, and lovers, and partners, life had been good, and he let it all fall apart. He wanted to protect Stephanie and instead he almost destroyed her. He broke her trust, hell, he shattered it, just like that damn brown bear cookie jar of hers. Once you broke faith, you didn't get a second chance. You never let the guy who failed you ever watch your back again. He knew he could trust Stephanie, but he had to wonder if she'd ever trust him again.

He blew out a deep breath, _Okay, enough reminiscing Manoso,_ he told himself; _you've got work to do._ He had some final cleaning up to take care of in the office and the bedroom. There couldn't be anything left here, no scrap of paper, no message or email, no phone number, no anything that would provide any hint of what had happened here. The whole story of this Mission would disappear into a top secret file, revealed only to those with the highest levels of security clearance.

Nobody would ever know how close they had come to a national disaster, the story would never make the newspaper headlines or the eleven o'clock news, there wouldn't be any thanks for anyone who took part in the Mission. Ramon Escobar and his whole organization would be arrested for previous crimes and would simply disappear into the justice system, hopefully never to be heard from again. Most of the Russian mob who were involved would be swiftly and quietly deported, to be 'taken care of' by their disappointed partners in Mother Russia. Like a puff of smoke on a windy day, it would all just disappear. And he and Hector would get to go home.

He pushed off the wall and headed for the stairs, then stopped, hearing a far off noise. He stood frozen until he identified the sound … footsteps, approaching quickly. He silently slipped back into the shadows under the staircase, his gun in his hand, muscles tensed, ready for action, waiting to see who was coming.

RSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRS

Max turned off the headlights and rolled slowly down the street where Ramon's compound was located. He had managed to stay ahead of the cars following them, but he didn't know by how much. The snow had let up some, but it was so windy that it didn't really matter. Visibility was just as poor as it had been earlier.

He followed the wall that surrounded the place down to the corner, then pulled the SUV up over the curb and into the woods next to Ramon's property, parking the vehicle halfway down the wall, far enough from the street to be hidden. Max reached over and gently shook Stephanie, saying her name quietly so he wouldn't startle her awake.

She blinked at him a couple of times before she could keep her eyes open and when she realized that they had stopped, she sat bolt upright and looked around. "Are we there Max? Why didn't you wake me sooner?" She fumbled with her seatbelt, finally getting it unbuckled, and reached for the door handle.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, Steph! Where do you think you're going?" He grabbed her by the arm and pulled her back into the seat while she tried to bat his hands away. "Cut it out and listen to me," he whispered, giving her a little shake.

She whipped around to face him, "Let me go!" she demanded. "I have to make sure he's okay. I have to warn him that Yuri's coming. I have…"

"I know! I know! But what are you gonna do, walk up to the front door and ring the bell? You know that Cal has some of the guys at the construction site next door. Let me go get them so we'll have some man power, just in case. And then we have to find a way into the house."

Stephanie sighed; it was time to share with Max. "I know a way in," she said, and then told him about the secret passage that went from the garden shed all the way to Ramon's bedroom closet, with stops at the garage and Ramon's office. "But we can't all get in that way. It's a low, narrow passage from here to the house. I fit and probably you would, but Hal and Cal and Tank … they're way too big."

"I don't know who Cal has with him, but let me go find out. You stay here and wait for me, okay? Even if the other guys can't fit in this way, you and I can, but we have to reconnoiter first and we're gonna go in together." Max got out of the car, "I mean it Steph, you wait for me. Do NOT go in there by yourself. Okay?"

"Stephanie?" She waved a hand at him and turned away, snorting in frustration.

She flopped back in her seat with both her arms and legs crossed, lips pressed together and foot jiggling, clearly furious. "Steph? Okay?" Max prodded.

She swung her head back around to him. "Okay! Okay! I Got it! You want me to sign in blood?" she snapped at him.

"I'll be back as fast as I can. Lock the doors and stay in the car." She rolled her eyes, but pressed the locks as soon as he closed the door and disappeared into the woods.

Stephanie swore she could hear the seconds tick away as she sat and waited for the longest twenty minutes of her life. She had just checked the clock on the dash and realized that the twenty minutes were really only eight, when she saw headlights, and a car rolled slowly down the street, followed by another and half a minute later, another.

A few minutes later, the three vehicles drove back past the house again, and that's all it took to make her change her mind. It was time to get moving!

RSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRS

As Ranger waited under the stairs, Hector came through the archway striding across the room toward the staircase. Ranger cleared his throat and stepped out of shadows. Hector immediately dropped to a crouch, pulling his gun and aiming at the source of the noise. "Easy, Hermano, it's only me," Ranger said softly.

Hector's head dropped and his shoulders sagged in relief. "You like to play dangerous games, amigo, be grateful that this gun doesn't have a hair trigger," Hector countered as he stood and slipped his weapon back into his shoulder holster. "I'd hate to have to explain to everyone how I shot you by mistake."

Ranger just chuckled, "I'm not that easy to kill, vato!" He slipped his own gun into the back of his waistband and the two men climbed the stairs to a small landing, pulled aside a heavy drapery and went through the office door that was hidden behind it. "Everybody taken care of?" Ranger sat down behind the ornate desk while Hector went to the wet bar and took a couple bottles of beer out of the fridge.

"They're all in the guesthouse," Hector said as he handed one to Ranger and then sat in one of the leather wingback guest chairs. "Caesar just arrived with the 'ladies' I hired. The caterer brought enough food to feed a small army and we could open our own liquor store with the booze that's been delivered. The party's in full swing. I'm surprised you can't hear the music from here," he said and took a pull off his beer. "When the Feds arrive tomorrow, they'll all be sleeping it off."

Ranger nodded in approval. "The less resistance tomorrow, the better."

"You know," Hector said sadly, "I'm tired. I'm beginning to think that I've had enough of this kind of fun and excitement. I think I need to settle down. If I ever decide to give up the security business, after this shin-dig," he jerked a thumb toward the guesthouse, "I think I might have a future as an event planner." Ranger laughed at the thought of Hector, with his gang kill tats, arranging flowers for some society wedding.

Ranger scrubbed his hands over his face and through his hair, locked his fingers together behind his head and leaned back in his chair. "I know what you mean. Tomorrow can't get here fast enough. I'm sick of this place. I'm sick of wearing this guy's face, I'm sick of impersonating a psycho … I just want to go home, Hector," he said, hearing the weariness in his own voice. "I'm getting too old for this shit. I want my life back."

"You and me both, my friend," Hector sighed. "You and me both." He took another long pull from the bottle and looked across the desk at Ranger. "But in your case, I really don't think it has anything to do with your age and everything to do with the girl you left behind." Ranger cocked an eyebrow at him and Hector raised both of his, lifting his beer bottle in silent salute.

Ranger tipped his chair back and looked at the ceiling. "Yeah, I've been doing a lot of thinking about her lately," he admitted to his friend. "If we have any chance of turning back the clock, or if she's gonna kick me to the curb because of all the shit I pulled. She'll never forget all those things I said to her. "

Hector snorted. "You think she'd be involved in this shit if she didn't love you? Just admit it, you're a dumbass and she's an angel. You both already know you don't deserve her. You're gonna have to come up with something to convince her that _this time_ it's forever." Hector was silent for a minute then snapped his fingers. "You need to marry her. Hey! That could be my first event …" The expression on Ranger's face was enough to make him snort and choke on his beer.

Ranger finished his beer and tossed the empty bottle into the trash can next to the desk. "Manny Hernandez called a little while ago. He's in New Orleans and will pick up the plutonium tomorrow. The Feds have a little welcome committee waiting for him. They'll take him and his transportation crew into custody as soon as he hands over the payment. That bastard is sure gonna be surprised when they slap the cuffs on him."

Hector blew out a deep breath, "You know, as much as I hate to admit it, the Feds sound like they actually pulled their heads out of their collective asses and have their act together this time. And unfortunately, before we can get back to Trenton, we have that fucking debriefing in D.C. to look forward to!"

Ranger groaned in reply. "Jesus! Just about every federal agency is gonna want a piece of us! It could take weeks … months!"

"Small price to pay for having lived, I guess," Hector quipped. He stood up and looked out the window toward the guesthouse. "Well, I'm off into the snow to make sure that those guys don't kill one another over there, although that would be one solution to the problem," he said with a wry laugh as he left the office.

Ranger pulled out his sat phone and dialed Stephanie's number. He needed to hear her voice, to reassure her and himself that everything was okay, and that in less than twelve hours, it would all be over but the shouting.

He dialed her number and listened as the phone just rang and rang and rang.

- 2 –

Stephanie just couldn't wait any longer. She checked her weapons, the Sig, the Glock, and Yuri's butterfly knife. She was carrying two guns and a knife, just like Ranger. "Sorry Max," she whispered, and she unlocked the doors, climbing out of the car. Max had pulled the SUV close to the wall, with just enough room for her to squeeze out. She crouched down by the side of the car and looked around. There was no sign of Max; even his footprints were almost gone, filled in by the blowing snow.

The wall around Ramon's compound was a good ten feet high and Stephanie figured that if she climbed onto the roof of the Escalade, she'd be able to see over the top. Max said they needed to reconnoiter and that's what she'd be doing, she told herself, just getting a jump start on it. She could hear loud music and high pitched, raucous laughter coming from behind the wall, obviously a party, and a party meant people. This was so not good! She knew she was taking a huge risk of being seen, hell, being _shot _by one of Ramon's army. But Ranger was on the other side of that wall and if he was there, by God, she was gonna be there, too!

Using the front bumper as a step, Stephanie clambered up onto the vehicle. She crawled across the hood on all fours and slithered up the windshield to lay flat on the roof. Taking a deep breath to steady her nerves, she got up on her knees and bobbed up to take a quick look over the wall, then fell flat onto her belly again. As far as she could tell, the grounds were empty, the guesthouse, party central, was full.

She bobbed up again, taking a longer look this time. She could only see one problem. If anybody came along while she was climbing over the wall, she would be caught totally exposed. There was no cover and no place to hide, but at this point, she really had no other choice.

The wall was only a foot or two away from the SUV and after her running jump across the alley, this was nothing. All she had to do was boost her self up and swing her legs over the top of the wall, then just drop down to the ground on the other side. Piece of cake!

With her adrenaline pumping, she planted her hands on the top of the wall, bent her knees and jumped, boosting herself up off the roof of the SUV, her arms and hands supporting her weight. From all the running and climbing and jumping she had done earlier, every muscle in her body screamed in protest, and this was nowhere near as easy as she thought it was going to be. By the time she dragged her leg over the wall to straddle it, she was spent. She didn't even have the energy to stop her own momentum and she lost her balance, toppling over the other side. She fell to the ground with a thump, landing on her back in the snow, knocking the wind out of her.

As she laid there, spread eagle, trying to catch her breath, a lone figure hurried through the grounds to the guesthouse. Her heart climbed up into her throat again as he passed within a few feet of her. Luckily, he had his coat collar pulled up around his face and he walked head down, into the wind. If he had raised his head, even for a second, he would have seen her. She watched as he went into the guesthouse, greeted by loud cheers and shouts. It wasn't until the door closed behind him that she was able to breathe again.

Scrambling to her feet, she limped across the grounds to the garden shed and yanked at the door. Locked, damn it! She hauled at the padlocked hasp in frustration, but it wouldn't budge. She was so tired that her brain just couldn't wrap itself around the problem, and tears welled up in her eyes.

She couldn't shoot the padlock off, she decided, that would be too noisy, but maybe she could use the butt of her gun as a hammer. Hunting through her coat pockets, she pulled out the screwdriver. Of course! She should have thought of it right away. She tried to unscrew the hasp, but the screwdriver had the wrong kind of head on it, so she slid it behind the hasp and, putting all her weight behind it, she pulled the screwdriver toward her. With a shriek, the screws gave up their hold in the wood and the hasp popped off the door, landing her on her ass in the snow.

She didn't bother standing up; she just hauled the door open and crawled inside the shed. Leaning back against the closed door, she tried to catch her breath and waited for her eyes to adjust to the dim light that filtered through the small windows. When she finally opened her eyes, she saw a mountain of big white bags, neatly labeled mulch, compost and fertilizer… right on top of the trapdoor.

Oh God! She just wanted to cry. Instead she grabbed a bag and started pulling. By the time she finished moving them all, she was beyond exhausted, every part of her body ached, and she was convinced this was all punishment because she hadn't waited for Max.

Thankfully, she didn't have to fight with the trapdoor. It lifted easily, and she slid down the ladder, pulling the trapdoor closed after her. A wave of relief washed over her as she hurried along the narrow passageway, all her exhaustion and pain disappearing. This was the end game; her plan to save Ranger had worked. All she had to do was find him and warn him, and they could run away before Yuri even showed up.

Stephanie got to the end of the corridor and shed Alexi's heavy coat, realizing that she had lost the Sig somewhere along the line. She still had the Glock and Yuri's butterfly knife, though. She didn't really think she'd need either, but she took them with her, better safe than sorry. She left her soaked boots with the coat, pulling off her sopping wet socks as well. She needed to move quickly and quietly, just in case.

An engine rumbled close by and she stopped at the secret panel that led into the garage. She slid it open an inch, just enough to see who was out there, and saw the limo idling there, the car door partially open and Caesar leaned back in the driver's seat. From her angle she couldn't see what he was doing, but she could hear the radio playing softly. He was probably taking a nap, she thought, the poor guy was on call 24/7.

She ran back down the passage to the stairway and flew up the steps, stopping outside the office. She listened at that panel, too, but didn't hear anything so she was pretty sure the office was empty, and she went on up the stairs to the bedroom. This was the only room that she really felt safe in, the bulletproof door was always locked, and only Ramon, well, Ranger, had the key to it. None of Ramon's men could just wander in at will.

Stephanie slid the panel open noiselessly and, parting the clothing, stepped out into the closet. The door was open and she peeked into the empty bathroom, groaning when she caught sight of herself in the closet mirror. She was a mess! Her hair hung in strings, and she realized that she had one blue eye and one brown; she had lost a contact lens. It took her all of thirty seconds to take out the brown lens and toss it, along with the prosthetic devices.

The last few times Ranger had seen her, she had been Sasha. He told her that he missed her blue eyes and curly hair. Now, except for the straight hair, she was Stephanie again. Wishing she had the time to shower and change for him, she stepped out into the bedroom and stopped short, her heart turning over with relief when she saw Ranger, standing at the dresser with his back to her.

She watched him for a moment, surprised that she was able to steal up on him like this. "Ranger," she said softly, and watched as he stiffened, then started to turn toward her. She flew across the dimly lit room to him and he caught her up in his arms, lifting her and clutching her to his chest. His mouth came down on hers in a hungry kiss that bent her back, his hand splayed on her throat, her arms pinned to her sides.

He broke the kiss and looked down at her.

"Hello, Dulce."

_**Ranger and Stephanie were friends and lovers and partners.**_

_**They were six weeks, four days, twenty-one hours, and seven minutes into her plan to save him, and now, their time had run out!**_

_**TBC …**_

_**A/N: My apologies for not ending Game… again! This time it's REAL LIFE that has stepped in to mess everything up. I swear on my 17 year old Suburban, Old Blue, that the last chapter will be posted on Tuesday! X my heart! **_

_**Thank you for all your wonderful reviews, suggestions, and advice. I don't know how I could have written this story without your support and encouragement. You guys ROCK!**_

_**Stayce**_


	41. The End Game!

Chapter 40: Final Jeopardy

_**Disclaimer: Everyone belongs to Janet Evanovich except the ones that are mine, and I'm just playing.**_

_**Warnings: LANGUAGE, VIOLENCE, ASSAULT and **__**WORSE**__**, All 12 books.**_

_**A/N: My thanks to the most special group of ladies on the planet: to Karen, Super Editor & Friend who puts up with my sappy Ranger and Wonder Woman Steph, Lindsay, who beats me with the Show, Not Tell Stick, on a regular basis, Luisa, Brain Stormer and Translator Extraordinario, Christie who Cheer Leads me, Lisa for Caring about me, Beth C. for the Food and Shopping trips that keep me sane, and all the BC & PP & BCRUS & FF girls for support, friendship, suggestions, hand holding, cheer leading and general ass kicking. Game wouldn't be without you.**_

_**Thank you to all of you wonderful readers and reviewers! I've tried to answer each and every review that you've sent. You've all made my Inner Review Slut very happy!**_

_**And now at long last, the end of the Game!**_

_****_

The Name Of The Game!

By Stayce (XJerseyGirl)

_**Chapter 41: The End Game!**_

-1-

The second she touched him, Stephanie knew that she should have listened to her spidey sense. It had been screaming at her since she climbed over the wall. She thought it was because Yuri was so close and all of Ramon's men were around. Now she knew that she hadn't listened hard enough and her heart lurched at the thought of what could happen as a result.

She tried to push away from him, to twist away from his mouth, but he held her too tightly. He broke the kiss and her heart stuttered in her chest. "Hello, Dulce!" Evil radiated off the man so strongly that she could practically taste it in his kiss and feel it in his touch. She saw it in his eyes as he looked down at her, his distorted version of a smile crossing his hideously scarred face.

"Surprised?" he asked as he studied her closely, as if he was trying to place her. Little black dots danced in front of her eyes and she opened her mouth to scream. He slid his hand up her throat and clamped it over her lips. "Don't!" That one word, warning and threat, said it all. She stayed still, her eyes locked on his, his smile gone now.

He spun them both around to face the mirror, pulling her back against him. "Ahhhh, you came prepared!" He sounded almost pleased as he reached between them and pulled her Glock out of the back of her waistband, putting it in his own. She stood rigid, trying not to let her knees buckle or show him how frightened she was. But all she could do was stare at her own wide eyes in the mirror and try to mimic Ranger's blank face.

Ramon stood with his hands on her elbows, holding her arms to her sides. "Did you know I was here? Did you come looking for me?" he growled into her ear. When she didn't answer, he slid his hands up to her shoulders and tightened his grip, his fingers biting into her until she thought her bones would break. "Answer me!" He gripped her tighter and she squeezed her eyes closed and bit her lip until she tasted her own blood.

"No!" she finally gasped when she couldn't take any more, and immediately berated herself for being a weakling.

Ramon loosened his grip, massaging her shoulders soothingly. "Answer my questions, Dulce, and I won't have to hurt you. Do you understand?" He gave her a snake smile when she nodded.

"Good. Now, tell me your name." His soft, charming voice belying the violence he was capable of.

She looked at his face in the mirror and had a gut feeling that he already knew who she was. "Stephanie." And he nodded at her and repeated it.

"Good, Ste-phan-ie." She shuddered, her stomach rolling. He said her name the same way Benito Ramirez had. Maybe all crazed killers talked the same way.

"Ranger, you called me Ranger. Ranger Manoso? Carlos Manoso? Is that the man who is wearing my face?" He stared at her in the mirror, comprehension dawning on him. "Yes! And you … you are his woman!" He laughed with pleasure that he had solved part of the mystery. "I have seen your pictures in magazines. I am called 'the ugly Manoso' … do you think I am ugly, Dulce?"

When her eyes flicked away from his reflection in the mirror, he threw his head back and laughed, and her blood curdled in her veins. He was mad, she was sure of it.

"Why? Why does he want to be me? Why did he take everything that belonged to me and have me locked away?" When she didn't answer he fisted his hand into her hair and dragged her head back until he could look down into her eyes.

"Let's ask him, shall we? We will find out together, Ste-phan-ie!" He jammed the muzzle of the Glock painfully against her spine and marched her out of the bedroom ahead of him into the dimly lit hall. Prodding her with the gun, he took her to the balcony overlooking the 'throne room' and stood her at the railing, using her as a shield, holding her against him. "Call him!" Ramon ordered. "Call your Ranger."

Stephanie swallowed hard and shook her head 'no'. She wouldn't betray Ranger.

"I said CALL HIM!" Ramon ground out, pressing the muzzle of the gun to her temple.

She didn't flinch away, simply straightened her spine and took a deep breath. "No," she said firmly. They had come so close and now, she had this terrible feeling in the pit of her stomach that she wouldn't be seeing home again. Slowly and carefully, she slipped her hand into her pocket and palmed the butterfly knife, pushing it up into the sleeve of her sweater. She knew without a shadow of a doubt that she would use it on Ramon if she had the chance.

"It doesn't matter. The gunshot will bring him out in the open. It would spoil my fun, though, just blowing your brains all over my beautiful house. I want him to watch while I take away from him something as important as he has taken from me!"

With the gun still to her head, Ramon called out. "Manoso! Manoso! Come out and see what I have for you!" His voice echoed through the house. He waited a minute and called again, louder this time. "Manoso! Your Steph-an-ie wants to talk to you."

The familiar tingle zinged down her spine and she knew he was there before she heard his voice. "No need to shout, Escobar. I can hear you," Ranger said softly from the other side of the balcony. "What do you want?"

Ramon turned toward the voice, pulling Stephanie in front of him, the gun still at her head. "What do I want?" he asked incredulously. "What do you _think _I want? I want my life back!"

Ranger gave a derisive laugh, "I could say the same thing." His voice was calm as he stepped out of the shadows, his eyes flicking to Stephanie's for a split second. He held his arms out at his sides, his hands empty, and turned slowly, showing Ramon that he wasn't armed.

Ramon's eyes narrowed as he stared at Ranger, looking him over, gauging the similarities. Stephanie could feel the anger flash through him. "Why do you want my life?" Fury and hatred dripped from his words. "Wasn't your own good enough? Why are you impersonating me? To steal my organization? For money? Power? Why?"

"I don't want your life Escobar, I was only borrowing it. You can have it back tonight, right here, right now. Stephanie and I will leave, and you'll never see us again." Ranger sounded calm and reasonable as he held his hand out to Stephanie.

"You're wearing my ring, and my watch," Ramon snarled and tightened his grip on her arm, "and my face."

Ranger took the watch off his wrist, slipped off the ring and held them both out to Ramon. He hoped that Ramon would reach out for them and he could grab Ramon's arm.

Ramon barked a laugh. "Do you really think I'd fall for that? You've studied me. You know I'm not stupid." He held Stephanie by the back of her sweater and pushed her forward. "Give them to her."

Ranger held the jewelry out to her and kept his blank face firmly in place when she slipped the closed butterfly knife into his hand. He could read her every emotion as it flew across her face. He wanted to tell her that everything would be alright, but all he could do was let the tips of his fingers slide over her palm and hold her eyes for a long second.

Ramon pulled her back beside him, trapping her against the marble railing. He held out his left hand to her. "Put the watch on me," he demanded. Stephanie slid the ring onto her thumb and turned slightly, slipping the gold, diamond faced watch over his hand. Her fingers felt thick with the fear that was running through her, making her shake so badly that she had trouble closing the clasp.

"We want no part of you or your life." Ranger watched while she struggled with the band. "Let us leave here now. We'll just walk out the door."

Ramon frowned. "No, no I don't think so. I still want to know why you did this to me."

"I didn't do it to you. Someone else did it to both of us. Neither you nor I had any choice in the matter." Ranger looked from Stephanie to Ramon. "Your house, your organization, your men, your money, your reputation. You give me Stephanie and I give you back everything else."

Ramon appeared to be considering the offer as he snapped his fingers for Stephanie to give him the ring. "You have something else that belongs to me," Ramon said coldly while Stephanie tried to tug the signet ring off her finger. "You have my face! There cannot be two Ramons." He shrugged nonchalantly and pointed the Glock at Ranger. "You have to die."

It was Scrog, come back to haunt them. "No," Stephanie wailed at Ramon's words, and reflexively jerked the signet ring off her thumb so hard that it flew out of her trembling fingers and sailed over the banister into thin air. "Oh God!" she breathed as she watched it fly away, her knees all but buckling under her.

It seemed as if time stood still as three pairs of eyes watched the ring, glinting in the moonlight, hang suspended in the air before it plummeted to the marble floor twenty feet below and hit with the crack of a gunshot. Ramon roared like a wounded animal and before anyone could react, he grabbed Stephanie, lifted her up in his arms and threw her over the balcony railing. Her scream echoed through the entire house.

Too far away to stop him, Ranger lunged forward and caught Ramon around the waist, taking him down to the floor. The Glock flew out of his hand, skittering away into the dark and his head hit the marble with a dull thud. Ramon lay there, motionless, while Ranger was on his feet, tearing to the spot where Stephanie had disappeared over the rail. Dreading what he would see, he leaned over the banister and looked down. But instead of her broken body lying on the marble below, Stephanie was treading air only a few feet from him, holding on to the tapestry stitched with the Escobar coat of arms.

"Oh Jesus, Stephanie! I thought …" He left the rest unsaid, then offered her a reassuring smile. "Hang on, Babe! I'll pull the tapestry up and have you safe in a minute. Just hold on tight!"

"Can you make it quick?" she stammered, fear making her voice quiver. "I don't know how much longer I can hang around like this." She tried for humor but the smile faded from her face and turned to terror as she glanced down at the floor so far below her.

"Don't look down, Babe, look up at me," he told her as he reached through the marble posts and grabbed the tapestry with both hands, hauling it and her up to the railing. She was just at eye level with the floor when she saw Ramon behind Ranger, knife in hand, about to plunge it into Ranger's back. She screamed a warning and Ranger twisted to the side, kicking Ramon's feet out from under him.

Ranger had no choice but to let go of the tapestry and Stephanie screamed again as she dropped sharply, jarring to a stop so suddenly that the material slipped through her fingers. She swung like a pendulum, with a death grip on the fabric, the taste of fear in her mouth.

Her heart was trying to hammer its way out of her chest and she couldn't draw a breath, the tears in her eyes blurring her vision, and yet she was more scared for Ranger than she was for herself. When she finally got enough air into her lungs, she called out, "Ranger? Are you okay?" but there was no reply, only the low grunts and growls of a fight coming from above her.

Another sound registered. "Oh no, please, please, noooooo…" With a low tearing noise, the fabric started ripping away from the balcony, slowly at first, then faster, and faster, dropping her like a stone. The floor came up to meet her with frightening speed and Stephanie squeezed her eyes shut only to be jerked to a stop, again. The fabric held, and when she finally pried her tear filled eyes open, she realized that she hung only a few feet off the floor. Loosening her grip, she slid down and landed in a heap, amazed to find Ramon's ring sitting on the floor right in front of her.

She snatched up the ring and shoved it into her pocket as she scrambled to her feet, calling out, "I'm okay Ranger, I'm alright!" as she backed across the room, trying to see what was happening on the balcony. If only she had a weapon! She knew that if she went up there unarmed, she couldn't help Ranger; she might even make things worse. But there was no way she could just stand down here and not know what was going on, so she started looking for a vantage point.

And then she saw them, two shadows locked in a death dance, knives fisted in their hands. Her heart in her throat, Stephanie watched the two figures as they cautiously circled one another, backlit by the moonlight streaming through the huge arched window on the balcony. They were testing each other, calling each other out, throwing down the gauntlet. Their silhouettes so identical, even she couldn't tell them apart.

Stephanie waited, the blood rushing in her ears, and she screamed when a knife slashed out so fast it was nothing but a blur. The move was blocked and then the attack returned by the other fighter. The opponents had sized each other up, and they backed away, standing poised for another round. Without warning, they threw themselves at one another and, locked together, they battled across the balcony. Blades flashed in the moonlight, fists and feet added to the weapons.

From the floor of the throne room it was still impossible for Stephanie to tell the men apart. All she knew was that they would fight to the death. Her icy hands clutched her chest as she watched the two men fighting above her, throwing each other against the walls, grappling on the floor, trying to pitch each other over the rail, the sounds of fists meeting flesh.

They fell to the floor together, rolling, first one on top, than the other, fighting for dominance, until suddenly, they stilled. Several long seconds passed and finally, one figure stood up and stumbled back a few paces. For a long moment, he looked down at the other man who lay on the floor near the top of the stairs, and then he turned away.

Her breath caught in her throat when she realized that she still couldn't tell which man had gotten to his feet, Ranger or Ramon. Her eyes searched the dim figure that ran his hands through his hair as he staggered to the center of the balcony and looked down at the room below.

So focused on the trying to identify the man on the balcony, Stephanie was only dimly aware of the sounds coming from outside the house. It took a moment for her to realize that they were under attack. The explosion that rattled the house brought her out of her fear-induced stupor. She heard the vehicles that roared up the long driveway, the distant gunfire and shouting that came from the direction of the guesthouse, muffled screams, shattering glass, the thud of running feet, and voices right outside the door, yelling back and forth to each other… in Russian.

"Oh God! Ranger! It's Yuri!" But he didn't answer her. The man on the balcony just straightened, searching to find her in the dark, and she still couldn't tell who he was.

The front door crashed open and what sounded like an army invaded the house. Stephanie quickly ducked behind the heavy draperies that lined the walls. Yuri's thugs were checking each room and calling 'Clear!' to each other as they searched the house. She heard them come through the archway and spread out through the room.

Sure her hiding place would be found, she flattened herself against the wall and peered out between the curtains. Yuri strode to the center of the room. "Ramon!" she heard Yuri shout and the man on the balcony turned to look down at him, shouting back, "What do you want?"

A split second later, a shot rang out, hitting the man in the back, then another and another. He swayed for a moment, then staggered forward and stood at the railing. A fourth shot echoed through the room, and he pitched forward over the rail. As he fell, he tangled in the ripped tapestry and landed, sprawled, across the throne, wrapped in the Escobar coat of arms.

Stephanie clamped both her hands over her mouth to keep from screaming. She couldn't drag her eyes away from the grotesquely broken body that draped over the throne. Unable to see his face, she couldn't tell who it was and hysteria bubbled up inside of her, tears streaming from her eyes.

Yuri yelled to his men, "Hurry up! Get his ring, I want his ring! If I ever find that cunt Sasha, I'm going to shove it down her throat while I fuck her to death."

One of the men went over to the body and called back to Yuri, "He's only wearing a flashy watch."

'_Thank You God! Thank You God!_ ' played over and over in Stephanie's head. It was Ramon! She took a deep breath and wiped her eyes and nose with the hem of her sweater, feeling dizzy and faint with relief. And then it hit her. The man lying on the balcony was Ranger and he could already be dead. Panic washed over her again and she sagged against the wall.

There was another volley of distant gunshots and Yuri signaled his men to go. He followed behind them as they ran down the hallway and out of the house. Stephanie waited until it was quiet, then parted the draperies, raced past Ramon's body and up the stairs to look for Ranger.

She found him partway down the stairs, slumped over against the wall, deep in the shadows where he hadn't been seen by Ramon's assassin. His eyes were closed and his hand was pressed to his side, blood seeping through his fingers, staining his shirt and forming a puddle on the step. He wasn't moving and her heart fluttered in her chest, fear coiling like a snake in the pit of her stomach. Her feet felt as if they were nailed to the floor and she had to force them to take her to Ranger.

Sinking to her knees beside him, she touched his face and her heart started to beat again when he slowly turned his head toward her. He looked into her face with pain glazed eyes, "Babe, you need to get out of here." His breathing was shallow, as if each breath hurt.

"I'm not going anywhere without you, Ranger, so don't even waste your breath arguing with me." She looked around, "We have to get you out of here."

Ranger nodded slowly, then pointed to Ramon's gun lying nearby. Stephanie grabbed it and handed it to him. "Come on, I'm gonna help you stand up." She wrapped her arms around him and struggled to get him to his feet. "We're gonna get you into the office and I'll go through the secret passage and find help, then we can take you down through the garage and get you to a hospital and you're gonna be fine and we're gonna go home and we're gonna wake up in our own bed …" She was babbling, but for whose benefit, she didn't know.

By the time she got him down the stairs and onto the leather couch in the office, Ranger was pale and gasping for breath, just from the exertion of moving. Stephanie locked and bolted the office door, then dragged a heavy wooden chair over and jammed it under the knob for good measure. She gathered up a first aid kit and towels from the small bathroom and hurried back to Ranger to try to dress his wound.

She swallowed hard, there was so much blood, his shirt and pants were soaked with it. He hissed in pain when she pressed a folded towel against his side to stem the blood flow, but despite the pain, he held it tightly while she wrapped a bandage around him to hold the towel in place.

"Okay, I'm gonna go get help. Max is here someplace, so are Cal and whoever he has with him, and Tank and the guys are on their way. You stay right here and rest so I know where to find you. Okay?"

"My gun's in the desk, take it with you," he said and watched while she tucked it into her waistband, then came back and sat on the edge of the couch. She leaned in to kiss him, then pushed his loose hair back from his face, tucking it behind his ear like he had done so many times for her. It was such an intimate gesture. It spoke of the love and tenderness, the warmth and caring they shared. She had to remember this moment, she thought, just in case …

He took her hand as she stood up and tugged her back down beside him, threading her fingers through his. He raised his other hand to her cheek, sliding his thumb over her lips, studying her face. "I need you to do something for me, something important, but I know it's going to be hard for you."

"Anything," she breathed, scared and shaken by what she was seeing in his eyes.

He took a deep, painful breath. "I want you to go through the passageway," she nodded as he spoke, "and out through the shed. And Stephanie… I don't want you to come back."

She looked at him and shook her head slowly. This was so like him, she thought, as she fought the tears that stung her eyes. "Sorry, Ranger," she said, "Not gonna happen. I can't do that. I _won't _do that. I'm not leaving you here alone. I told you before that we're in this together. I meant it then and I mean it now. Wither thou goest, and all that crap."

"Stephanie, please, you have to face the reality of this whole situ…"

She cut him off, "No! The reality is that I'd rather die with you than live without you. And since I'm not quite ready to die yet, I better get busy and get us both out of here!"

"Listen to me!" he ground out around the pain, "This place is overrun with Yuri's men, Ramon's men. If they get their hands on you… there's no nobility in any of them. You're the prize, the trophy, the spoils of war. You can't even imagine the things they would do to you … that's no way to die, Stephanie."

"Forget it, Ranger. You can't scare me. I'm all scared out," she said with a forced laugh. "I gotta get going and try to find the guys," and she leaned in to brush a kiss across his lips.

He couldn't help but read the determination in her eyes. There would be no arguing with Stephanie Plum. Nothing that he said would make any difference once her mind was made up.

"I love you, my brave girl," he whispered in resignation as he cupped her cheek in his hand.

Her voice caught in her throat as she placed her hand over his. "I love you back," she murmured and she kissed him gently on the lips. "I'll be back as fast as I can," and she kissed him again, his hand went to the back of her neck holding her to him, his tongue touching hers, sending a shiver through her. One, two, three more kisses and she got up and went to the panel, sliding it open. She was scared to leave him; and she was more afraid of what she would find when she got back, than anything that was ahead of her. He watched her as she touched her fingers to her lips, and holding up her hand to him, she closed the panel and headed for the garage.

- 0 –

Stephanie barreled down the stairs as fast as her legs would carry her. She made it to the garage and peeked out the panel. The limo was still idling in the same spot, Caesar still behind the wheel. It seemed strange that he'd still be here with everything that was going on. Still, if he could help Ranger … Crawling out of the passageway, she sprinted across the garage and hauled open the driver's side door.

"Caesar! I nee…" the rest of the sentence died in her shrill scream as Caesar fell out of the limo and landed at her feet, his eyes wide open, his throat slit from ear to ear. She backed away in shock and pulled the gun out of her waistband, looking around for his killer before she realized that this was probably Ramon's handiwork.

The knob on the outside garage door rattled and she jumped at the noise. Heavy thumps followed, someone was trying to break it in, and she could hear the wood splintering with each blow. The passageway was on the other side of the huge garage, too far away to get to it, and before she could move, the door flew off its hinges and one of Yuri's men came into the garage. As soon as he saw her, he raised his weapon to shoot. Instinctively, her arm came up and she fired off two rounds. The thug sank to his knees, then dropped face first to the garage floor. Another man appeared in the doorway and then jumped back out of the line of fire.

Stephanie made a run for the door that led into the kitchen, firing off a couple of rounds, hoping to make the thug take cover. Bullets pinged off the concrete walls and floor, ricocheting around her. She hissed in a breath as one caught the top of her arm, another scraping along the middle of her back. She never broke stride and bolted right through the door and up the stairs into the house.

Streaking through the kitchen, Stephanie all but tripped over Roberts, lying on the floor in a pool of blood, his cell phone in his outstretched hand. She scooped it up as she made her way around his body, through the butler's pantry and into the elaborate dining room. She huddled in the corner behind the door and dialed Tank's phone, barely able to hear it ring over the blood pounding in her ears.

'_Please God! Please God! Please God!' _It had become her mantra through this whole ordeal. She almost sobbed when he answered. "Tank, it's me," she whispered. "You have to help Ranger! Ramon stabbed him and I can't stop the bleeding. He's in the office on the stairs. Tank, HURRY! Please hurry!"

She could hear Tank yelling over the sound of gunfire, "Okay, Okay! Steph, we'll get to you as fast as we can. You stay with Ranger, we'll be…" but before she could hear anything else, the door flew open, trapping her in the corner, and her pursuer came running into the room. She closed the phone quietly and held her breath, waiting to be discovered. She heard a deep voice mutter, "Shit!" and the man stomped back out of the room.

Stephanie closed her eyes in relief and sagged against the wall. Running her hands over her face, she listened as his footsteps receded. She dragged in another lungful of air to ease the ache in her chest, and she cautiously peered around the door into the empty room. Now that she had called Tank, she had to get back to Ranger. Ramon had left the bedroom door open and if she could just get upstairs, she could get to the office through the passageway.

Feeling a little lightheaded and dizzy, Stephanie slipped out of the dining room and headed for the stairs. By the time she got halfway up the staircase, she was short of breath and she had to blink to clear her vision. Once she got to Ranger, she told herself, she would be fine. She was just tapped out. The top of her arm burned where the bullet had sliced through the flesh and she felt like she had been punched in the back.

She finally made it to the spot where she had found Ranger and froze, a chill passing through her when she saw the pool of blood where he had been lying. Unable to drag her eyes away, she moved to sidestep the blood and bumped into something. When she looked up, it was into Yuri's smirking face.

"My, my, what big blue eyes you have, _Sasha_!" he snarled and fisted his hands in her sweater, dragging her up to the balcony.

She tried to raise her gun, but she wasn't fast enough and Yuri grabbed her by the back of the neck and threw her to the floor, leaving her stunned. Her gun slipped out of her hand and before she could get to it, Yuri kicked it away, then hauled her to her feet by her injured arm. When she gasped in pain, he laughed and squeezed harder. Wrapping his arm around her waist, he half dragged, half carried her down the hall into Ramon's bedroom. Locking the door behind them, he shoved her to the floor again.

Stephanie tried to get to her feet but he kicked out at her, catching her on the hip. "How's that feel, you whore? You like it? Want more?" he raged at her. Rolling with the kick, her arms and hands covering her head and face, she curled up into a tight ball, trying to protect herself. Yuri was working himself into a frenzy, screaming and lashing out at her with his feet. He caught her in the ribs with the next kick, making her whimper in pain, then zeroed in with a blow to her injured back and another to her shoulder, leaving her gasping for air.

When he had worn himself out with that amusement, he hauled her up off the floor and dragged her across the room. Fueled by his rage, he picked her up like a rag doll and tossed her on the bed.

"I should fuck you from behind like the bitch you are!" he snarled, as he straddled her chest to hold her in place. She fought him with everything she had left in her, scratching at his face, trying to gouge his eyes, trying to roll him off her, but nothing worked. He just sat on her, grinning down at her, waiting for her to wear herself out.

Finally, he grabbed her hands and trapped them under his knees, then bent down to whisper in her ear, "I don't think you're going to enjoy this as much as I am, Sasha. We're going to play my favorite game … 'How long will it take for Sasha to die?' I'm going to kill you a little bit at a time, and then, the grand finale! The very last thing you're ever going to see is my face when I cum inside you as you take your very last breath." He laughed like the lunatic he was.

She dragged in a lungful of air and spit right in his face. He wiped off the spittle and reared back to hit her, but she never looked away, just glared at him, straight in the eye. He didn't land the blow, just grinned down at her. "I've been waiting for this!" he said almost gleefully, and carefully wrapped his hands around her throat. And with a sigh of contentment, he started to squeeze slowly.

It got harder and harder for her to take a breath, as her lungs burned and panic set in. Oh God! She didn't want to die this way, trapped and helpless. Please! She was supposed to help Ranger. She struggled to get away from Yuri, but with her hands pinned and his weight on her chest, she was defenseless.

Tears leaked out of her eyes and over her temples as he leaned forward, pressing her into the mattress until bright red stars burst behind her eyelids and blackness started to cloud her vision. Suddenly, his hands pulled away and the pressure disappeared. She rasped in a ragged breath, her vision cleared and she was looking over Yuri's shoulder at Ranger.

He had one arm wrapped around Yuri's neck, catching him in a choke hold. Yuri's eyes bulged, his mouth open in a silent scream and he clawed at Ranger's arm. Ranger tightened his hold and whispered to him, his voice as cold as ice, "I told you that if you ever hurt her, I would kill you with my bare hands. I always keep my promises." His other arm coming around Yuri's head and with a vicious twist, Yuri's neck snapped. Stephanie watched as Ranger shoved the lifeless body away from him.

Ranger swayed and grabbed one of the bed posts to steady himself, then sat heavily on the foot of the bed, holding his side. With a groan of pain, he leaned back against the post, trying to catch his breath. It took Stephanie a minute to recover enough to push herself up off her back and she sat on the bed, feeling weak and dizzy. Crawling to the edge, she snuggled next to Ranger, leaning her head on his shoulder.

She looked over at Yuri's body and shuddered. "He would have killed me if you hadn't come in when you did. How did you know?"

He turned his head and kissed her forehead, his eyes closed. "Heard you scream, came up the secret passage."

"My hero," she murmured, never more happy to see him than she was at that moment, and she dropped a kiss on his shoulder.

He took her hand in his, each surprised at how cold the other was. "You're freezing," Ranger told her. "So are you," she said, fear skittering through her.

"I'm getting shocky from blood loss." He turned to face her, "That means there's no time left; you have to go home now, Babe."

She shook her head, "Only if you come with me, Ranger."

He reached out and stroked his fingers down the side of her face, running his thumb over her beautiful mouth. He shook his head slowly, "No, Babe. We both know I won't be going home." He smiled wistfully and watched as the realization of what he was saying hit her.

She felt her heart break at his words, "Then take me with you!"

"Stephanie," he said softly as he stroked her cheek, "You know I can't do that. Not where I'm going. Please, do this for me." He tipped her chin up so she would look into his eyes.

"No! No, I can't. Not after everything we've been through." Her voice cracked and she choked on her tears. "It isn't fair! You worked so hard… We all did!" She was sobbing now, unable to stop herself.

"I was never supposed to survive. We were just fooling ourselves all along. If we had been honest about it… Stephanie, you have to go!"

He put his hand on her back to give her a little push to leave and she recoiled, gasping in pain. He pulled his hand back and looked in disbelief at the blood that covered his fingers. "Stephanie…?" He held out his hand and she looked at the blood on it in surprise.

"It's just a scratch… a ricochet… I didn't even think I was bleeding," she assured him, suddenly feeling faint.

"Let me see," Ranger said as something close to fear spiked through him. She sat forward and lifted her sweater. She heard his sharp intake of breath when he saw the bloody bullet hole in her back. He looked back at the place she had been lying on the bed and saw the pool of blood that had soaked into the comforter and he closed his eyes to block out the sight.

Stephanie turned her head and caught his expression an instant before his blank face slipped into place and that alone told her how bad it really was.

She heaved a ragged sigh and said softly, "I guess I won't be going home either." She gave him a tremulous smile, "I always said I'd rather die with you than live without you." She suddenly was just so tired. The past couple of days came crashing down on her, and now that she knew she'd been shot, she admitted to herself how bad she felt and how much it really hurt.

"I'm sorry Babe. If I had just followed my instincts and had Tank lock you up someplace, you'd be safe and happy and have your whole life ahead of you. But I was selfish. I wanted to be able to see you and touch you. I just couldn't seem to stay dead. I'd make it better if I could." There was anguish in his voice, a sorrow she'd never heard before and her heart broke for both of them.

Another explosion rocked the house and Stephanie gave a little scream as she buried her head in Ranger's chest, his arms holding her close. They could both hear the yelling and the gunfire that filtered up from downstairs. The battle had moved into the house and was getting closer to them by the minute.

Stephanie remembered Roberts' cell phone and took it out of her pocket, dialing Tank, but his phone just rang and rang. Their eyes met over the ringing phone and they both accepted the fact that there wouldn't be any last minute miracle saves for either of them. Ranger took the gun out of his waistband and while Stephanie watched, he checked the ammo. There was a single bullet in the chamber, the clip was empty. He jammed the clip back into the gun and held it in his hands, looking at it for a long minute, then turned to Stephanie.

"I can't let Yuri or Ramon's men take you …" he didn't have to finish the sentence, she knew what he was going to say. They had talked about it before, in the office.

"I know," she whispered, laying her hand on his arm. The last bullet would be for her.

She stared at the gun in his hands, a shiver passing through her. "Will it hurt much?" she asked softly, tears in her voice.

He shook his head and put the gun down, reaching for her. He wrapped her in his arms, cradling her to his chest. "No! No pain." He drew in a ragged breath, wishing he could take her fear away. "I promise you. Just a big noise and a bright light."

She lay back on the bed taking him with her, and he stretched out beside her so that they were face to face. They pulled the comforter over them and just held onto each other. He smiled at her. "I missed your blue eyes," he murmured, kissing her eyelids gently.

The fighting was outside in the hall now, and Stephanie flinched with each noise. Ranger drew her closer and ran his fingers over her face and down the side of her bruised neck. Slipping his fingers under its heavy gold chain, he pulled the pearl out from underneath her sweater and laid it between her breasts. She covered his hand with hers, and a curious sense of peace washed over her. She wasn't afraid anymore.

Her head on his shoulder, she asked softly, "Is this the way you thought you would die?"

"Before I met you, yeah, it was." He would have laughed if he could have.

"And after you met me?"

The corners of his mouth tipped up, "Old age, married 50 years … surrounded by our … kids and … grandkids and great … grandkids and …" his eyes drifted shut and his voice trailed off.

"But I don't wanna get married … Ranger?"

"Hmm," was all he said as a violent shiver passed through him. She tucked the comforter more tightly around him and wrapped him in her arms, trying to give him what little warmth she had left. She wondered how long it would take before she slipped into unconsciousness, too.

It was all so wrong, she thought, almost choking on the grief she felt. The mission was over, the bad guys were caught, Ramon was dead, Yuri was dead, and soon they would be, too.

Stephanie watched the sun start to rise as they lay in each other's arms, foreheads touching, just like they had on so many other mornings, back before their world had fallen apart. He was so pale and his chest rose and fell in shallow breaths. She knew he was losing his battle and he would be gone soon.

She had always loved the steady beat of his heart. It had always reassured her that she was safe and secure and loved. The heat that had radiated off of his body had warmed her, comforted her, given her proof of his strength and power. The strength of his character had stolen her breath away and his larger than life personality could fill any room. Now, this amazing man was slipping away, fading before her eyes, and there was nothing she could do to stop it.

It was just as well that she was dying, too, she decided. How could she live without him? Why would she even want to?

Another shudder passed through him and his breathing became erratic. Her own heart stuttered in her chest, matching the faltering beat of his.

"Oh God, Ranger! You can't leave me here all alone, don't go yet," she whispered desperately against his cold lips.

"I'm still here, Babe…" he murmured without opening his eyes.

"Yuri!" A voice from outside shouted and Stephanie winced. "Yuri!" It was louder this time. Someone pounded loudly on the bedroom door, "Yuri …" and the rest was in Russian.

Ranger roused at the noise and pulled Stephanie to him, kissing her tears away. She knew that the gun was on the bed behind her, and now he put his hand on it.

Heavy thuds echoed through the bedroom and she was sure that Yuri's men were trying to batter down the door. An automatic weapon fired right outside, the noise was deafening and Stephanie took a deep shuddering breath, knowing what was going to happen now.

Ranger's lips met hers in one final kiss. "I love you, Babe …" and he raised the gun.

Stephanie pressed her lips against Ranger's. "I love you back!" She felt the muzzle press against the back of her head.

"I'll be right behind you…" he whispered as he put his finger in the trigger.

"I'll wait for you," she said against his lips and held her breath…

The last thing she heard was a shout as the bedroom door crashed open …

She felt the explosion …

She saw the blinding white light burst around them…

She felt herself being lifted …

And she flew away.

RSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRS

**_Ranger and Stephanie had been happy and in love._**

**_They had been friends, and lovers, and partners._**

**_They had been together. They had been apart. She thought he was dead. They had found each other again. She had devised a plan to save him._**

**_All the months, and weeks, and days, and hours, and minutes… They had loved each other every second…_**

**_And now, their time had run out._**

_**The End**_

_**A/N: What? You don't like the ending? You still want a HEA, don't you? Okay, okay, I suppose I can add an epilogue like I did with Worm. I guess I owe you a Happily Ever After ending after all the wonderful reviews you've given me. That's only fair, right? I guess I'll always be the world's biggest Review Slut! I'm not above bribery and begging. LOL!**_

_**Honestly, though, thank you to all of you wonderful readers and reviewers. I couldn't have written Game without you. Your comments, questions, criticisms, all of them, the good, the bad, and the ugly, have all helped me to become a better writer. Again, my deepest thanks!**_

_**Stayce**_


	42. The Game Of Life!

Epilogue: The Game of Life

_**Disclaimer: Everyone belongs to Janet Evanovich except the ones that are mine, and I'm just playing.**_

_**Warnings: LANGUAGE, VIOLENCE, SMUT and WORSE, All 12 books.**_

_**A/N: My thanks to the most special group of ladies on the planet: to Karen, Super Editor & Friend who puts up with my sappy Ranger and Wonder Woman Steph, Lindsay, who beats me with the Show, Not Tell Stick, on a regular basis, Luisa, Brain Stormer and Translator Extraordinario, Christie who Cheer Leads me, Lisa for the Phone Calls, Beth C. for the Food and Shopping trips that keep me sane, Linda for letting me bitch and all the BC & PP & BCRUS & FF girls for support, friendship, suggestions, hand holding, cheer leading and general ass kicking. Game wouldn't be without you.**_

_**Thank you to all of you wonderful readers and reviewers! I've tried to answer each and every review that you've sent. You've all made my Inner Review Slut very happy!**_

_**And now at long last, absolutely, positively, without a doubt The Very End of the Game!**_

_**The Name Of The Game!**_

_**By Stayce (XJerseyGirl)**_

_**Epilogue: The Game of Life**__!_

-1-

Stephanie reached her arms up over her head and stretched luxuriously, her legs tangled in the sheets, her body pleasantly sore in all the right places. She was alone in the big bed, but if she closed her eyes, she could still feel his hands on her breasts and his mouth on her belly, she could feel him moving inside of her, branding her as his all over again. A warm breeze billowed the curtains that hung from the four hand hewn bedposts, and she turned to look through the open door at the impossibly blue sea. She slipped out of bed and pulled the gauzy white shift over her head, the tile floor cool under her feet as she crossed the room to look for Ranger.

Running her fingers through her wild curls, she went to the edge of the terrace and looked down at the beach where Ranger was finishing his morning run, her heart turning over at the sight of him. His shorts were low slung on his slim hips, his muscles flexing, his chest and arms covered with a fine sheen of sweat in the early morning sunlight. His hair was cut shorter and curled a bit as it fell over his forehead. He was tall and tanned and perfect as he splashed through the aquamarine water.

She knew that he could feel her eyes on him, and he looked up at her, gifting her with a full on smile. He raised his arm and waved to her, motioning her to come down and join him, but she smiled back and shook her head 'no', sitting instead on the low rock wall that surrounded the terrace so she could watch him. He waved again and ran into the water, diving into a breaking wave, strong and healthy and unscarred, slicing through the water as he swam away from shore.

Stephanie pulled her knees to her chest and folded her arms on top of them, her chin resting on her hands. She watched Ranger, and even after last night, or maybe because of it, lust curled in her belly, the heat shooting through her veins like fire in her blood. She would usually still be asleep when he returned. He would shower and stretch out beside her, waking her with gentle touches and kisses. Sometimes they would talk, sometimes laugh, sometimes they would make love, but always, they made memories.

Today though, it would be different. She would pull him off the terrace and back into bed before he showered. She would kiss his face and throat, shoulders and chest, licking his skin, tasting the salty tang of sea and sweat as she slid down his body. She would take him in her mouth and drive him out of his mind, make him lose control, feel his hands twisting in her hair as she drove him over the edge, tasting him again.

He turned back when he got to the end of the rock jetty and swam to the shore with long, sure strokes. Stephanie watched as he stood in the hip deep water, his hands raised to push the hair back from his handsome face, the knife wound raw and ragged in his side, blood streaming out of him, staining his skin and turning the blue water bright red. He looked so sad when he saw the blood, and raised his eyes to her, the light in them dimming, then dying, as he fell backwards into the sea and vanished.

Stephanie sat bolt upright gasping for air, her silent scream echoing inside her head. As many times as she'd had the same nightmare, she would never get used to it. She slipped out of bed and padded into the bathroom to wash her face and try to wash away the dream, again. Like so many other nights, there would be no more sleep for her.

-2-

Stephanie had wracked her brain, giving herself a headache, but the last thing she could remember was being in Ramon's bed with Ranger and knowing that they were going to die together. There was that white light that everybody always talked about, and then … nothing. At least there was nothing until she had finally dragged her eyes open and found Hal and Lester hovering over her, scaring the crap out of her. She had screamed and they both had jumped a little.

She really thought that she was dead and they were looking down at her in her coffin. She didn't know what she expected. Angels maybe? Or God Himself? But even in her drug induced fog, she didn't think she could be in heaven. Not with Lester there! She wouldn't remember that she had looked up at Hal and whispered, "I don't think he's supposed to be here in Heaven," and then she drifted off to sleep again. Much to Lester's disgust, Hal laughed until he cried.

The next time she came to, she was in pain, her back ached where she had been shot and her arm was stiff, her throat so sore she couldn't swallow. She didn't know where she was and wound up having a full blown panic attack, crying out for Ranger, her heart rate and blood pressure skyrocketing. Memories flooded over her and she came awake fighting the hands that were trying to help her, needing find Ranger, to make sure that he was alright, needing to see him and touch him. It was Hal who had wrapped his arms around her and eased her back onto the bed when she tried to get up to search for him. It had been Lester who had held her hand and dried her tears, trying to soothe her while doctors and nurses poked and prodded her. They all tried to tell her that Ranger was still alive, but she was beyond hearing them and she screamed for him until she had to be sedated.

When she opened her eyes and found an exhausted Tank dozing in the chair next to her bed, a stab of fear knifed through her heart at what he was going to tell her. Her heart tried to hammer its way out of her chest and she was working on another panic attack when Tank roused and smiled at her. That smile alone, gave her hope. "Hey Bombshell, good to see you awake!" He leaned over her bed and flipped open his cell phone. "Thought you'd like to see where I've been the last couple days." He held the phone for her so she could see the pictures he had taken of Ranger in the ICU. Relief washed over her and the tears that had welled in her eyes spilled down her face. She finally believed that Ranger had survived.

Tank told her to 'smile pretty' and took a couple of pictures of her to show Ranger when he came around, as proof that Stephanie was still alive, too. She complained, but leaned back against her pillows and smiled. When she saw the pictures though, she was stunned at what her face looked like. Considering how she felt, she was pretty sure the rest of her body looked the same way. Tank chuckled, "Bomber, you are such a girl!" when she whined over her wild hair and the dark circles under her eyes and the huge purple bruises on her neck from Yuri trying to strangle her.

She tried to delete the pictures, but Tank was faster and grabbed the phone back first, telling her that if she didn't behave and follow doctor's orders, he'd send them to the Trenton Times. "Traitor!" she yelled at him, but he just smiled and kissed her on the cheek, telling her that she shouldn't worry about what she looked like. She was alive, and so was Ranger. That was all that really mattered. Even she had to admit that there was no arguing with that logic!

The steady stream of Merry Men who trooped in and out to see her overwhelmed and exhausted her. Her room looked like a florist shop and there were enough stuffed animals and balloons to fill a children's ward. They brought lots of magazines, too, except they were mostly of the Guns and Ammo type. They made sure her TV had a DVD player, and stocked up on all her 'favorite' movies, like all the Die Hards and Rambos. She suspected they had ulterior motives. She'd drift off to one bunch of Merry Men and wake up to find a different set sitting there, watching TV or dozing in chairs.

Lester and Hal only left when the nurses came in to change her bandages or bathe her, and she was never quite sure that Lester didn't peek anyway. When she wondered out loud who was staffing the Trenton office since it seemed that everybody was here, Ram just smiled and told her that they brought in the second string, Rangemen from Boston. It hurt when she snorted a laugh and rolled her eyes. She couldn't wait to hear what the Boston guys would say when they heard about that little crack.

Stephanie knew full well that despite the humor, wherever Ranger was, his men would be too. They would want to be here to stand watch, to guard him, to give blood, to lend morale support, to do whatever was necessary for him. Stephanie could see that they were all exhausted, but still, they weren't going to leave until Ranger did.

A lot of the men had been injured, but they were still came in to see her. Max had his arm in a sling, Cal was limping, Junior moved very slowly, like a man with broken ribs, Binkie was on crutches, his leg in a cast, Woody had a black eye and broken nose, even Lester had bruises and a bandage on his arm. When she asked him about it, he waggled his eyebrows and offered to compare battle scars with her. Some things never changed, she thought with a smile. Thank God!

The guys knew how much she hated not knowing what had happened while she was unconscious. After all, this was Stephanie, and the not knowing was driving her nuts. She badgered them for details and they gleefully made it their duty to fill in all her blank spots. They took turns entertaining her with some wildest tales she had ever heard, about how they had fearlessly fought their way into Ramon's compound and then into the house like comic book heroes, making her smile at their good natured arguing over who was the bravest.

Of course, each time Lester told her a part of the story, it became more outrageous and he became more heroic, until it sounded like he had single-handedly stormed the place and had overcome hordes of bad guys with nothing more than his bare hands and devastating smile, putting all the other Merry Men to shame.

They playfully acted out all the hand to hand combat for her entertainment pleasure. As payback for Lester's boasting, each Merry Man used him as the bad guy, tossing him around like a rag doll. Finally he announced that he was going to just stay on the floor since that was where he was going to wind up anyway. And Stephanie found out the true meaning of the expression, 'It only hurts when I laugh,' having to stop the guys a couple of times when she really thought she was in danger of ripping out her stitches from laughing so hard.

The mood changed and the guys turned serious when Bobby told her how they had taken out the last of Yuri's men in the hall, right outside the bedroom, and how Ram had planted the small explosive charges that blew the door in. They explained that since nobody knew who was in the room, Tank had followed long-standing procedure and yelled, 'RangeMan!' before tossing a flash/bang grenade through the doorway. That way, they told her, any Merry Men who might be in there would know to duck and cover and the bad guys would be stunned by the bright flash and the big bang.

Stephanie vaguely remembered hearing a shout and she realized that it must have been Tank doing the yelling. That's why Ranger hadn't pulled the trigger of the gun he'd had pressed to the back of her head; he knew the procedure and that it was the Merry Men outside the door. That's why she was still alive. She'd have to remember to thank Tank when she saw him.

All the Merry Men carefully glossed over the part about finding her wrapped in Ranger's arms, and that they all thought that both of their friends were dead. Stephanie felt herself choke up when she realized that not one of them mentioned the part about the gun … they were trying to protect her, spare her, in case she didn't know what Ranger had planned to do, and she loved them for it.

There was no joking around when Bobby filled her in about the medical teams he had assembled, and the air rescue helicopter Tank had arranged for. Both of the men knew that there would probably be injuries among the Rangemen during that kind of an operation. He told her how they had almost instantly turned the bedroom into a field hospital. The medics had stabilized both her and Ranger, then air lifted them to a private hospital where a trauma team was standing by. It dawned on Stephanie that she shouldn't be surprised about any of their preparations; after all, this was RangeMan. All of this was the norm for them, just a walk in the park, just an ordinary Tuesday, or whatever day it was, she had lost track.

Even though the doctors had talked to her, Bobby told her more about her injuries and how lucky she was that the bullet that had hit her had been a ricochet, not packing its full punch. It had done enough damage as it was, he said, but nothing permanent and she would be good as new in a couple of weeks. She had lost a lot of blood, and that's why she was so tired and weak. They'd have to watch her for infection, but she'd be home in a week and could recuperate there. The scars on her arm and back could easily be taken care of by a good cosmetic surgeon, he said, and he offered to call Niko Ramos for her.

Bobby promised to give her a daily status report on Ranger's condition. He was gentle with her, but told her the truth. Ranger had had a couple of surgeries to repair the damage from the stab wound, had lost his spleen and too much blood. He was getting transfusions and was still unconscious, but he was young and strong and healthy, and there was no reason he shouldn't make a full recovery. Still, Stephanie couldn't help being worried and scared for him.

When her turn came to tell them what had happened to Ranger and her, the Merry Men filled her room so she'd only have to tell the story once. Despite her brave front, they all knew how hard it would be on her. They filled the chairs and leaned against the walls and doorway, some of the guys sat on the floor, but even though everybody smiled encouragingly, the mood was somber. As much as she hated the thought of having to relive the horror of that night, with bile burning the back of her throat and her voice shaking, she told them everything. Starting from the time she climbed over the compound wall, she stopped her story to apologize to Max for not listening to him, to Ramon grabbing her, to being thrown over the balcony, she didn't leave out anything. Even to her own ears, it sounded like fiction.

Hal sat on the bed next to her, his arm wrapped around her shoulders, hugging her when her voice broke as she told the guys about not being able to tell Ranger and Ramon apart, watching one get stabbed and the other shot. Lost in the memory, her voice faded away when she told them how she found Ranger, how she got shot herself, and her run in with Yuri. Her hand drifted up to touch her throat when she told them how he tried to strangle her, and about Ranger's miraculous appearance and how he saved her. Some of the men had to turn away, not able to look at her, when she told them about Ranger's plan for the last bullet in his gun.

When she finally finished her story, the guys got up and gave her a standing ovation. They gathered around her bed, telling her that she had saved Ranger and how proud they were of her, kissing her cheek or forehead or hand as they left the room. Suddenly she was so exhausted, both emotionally and physically from reliving it all, that she didn't have the strength to stay awake for another minute. Letting her eyes drift closed, she sagged back against Hal's chest and she drifted off to sleep, totally spent.

-3-

On the third day Bobby popped into her room and Stephanie immediately woke up. "Hey Slugger," he said with a huge smile. "Guess who's awake and out of ICU?"

Stephanie's throat closed up and she couldn't speak, overcome by the relief she felt. Her emotions were still all over the map and all she could do was lay there and cry. Bobby raised the head of her bed and sat on the edge, waiting for her to cry it out. When she was finally down to just hiccupping, he handed her a wad of tissues and ordered, "Blow!"

"The very first thing Ranger said was, 'Where's Stephanie?'" Bobby said with a laugh. "And then he ordered me to go and find you. He was ready to climb out of bed and go hunting for you himself if I didn't hustle fast enough," he said, smiling.

"Well then move it, Brown," she gave him a shot in the arm to motivate him. "Let's get going! I need to see him now!" She flipped the covers off of her legs and tried to slide out of the bed.

"Oh, I don't think so Slugger." Bobby said with a laugh, as he gently restrained her. "Wait until they bring you a wheelchair. You're not quite ready to go running off down the halls yet. It's bad enough that he wants to tear this place apart looking for you, don't you give me a hard time, too."

Stephanie flopped back against the pillows and blew out a dramatic sigh, then her Jersey Girl instincts kicked in and she flipped open the mirror on the bed table. She fluffed her hair and grabbed her little make up bag, grateful for the guys' willingness to bring her some of the basics she'd asked for, like a hairbrush and mascara and lip gloss. "I look like death warmed over," she moaned as she looked at the bruises she still sported.

"That's exactly what you are, Slugger, both of you! Death warmed over!" She turned her stricken face toward him. "Don't worry; you'll look beautiful to him. Nothing you can do is ever gonna change that!" Bobby just shook his head and watched her put on another coat of mascara and swipe on lip gloss while they waited for the wheelchair.

At the sound of approaching footsteps, Bobby got up and helped Steph slide her legs over the side of the bed, then helped her on with her robe and slippers.

She was more than relieved that she didn't have to wear those embarrassing hospital gowns anymore. Lester had volunteered to take the list she had written up to the nearest mall. He had come back with a several lovely big pink bags from Victoria's Secret, filled with the jammies and robes and undies that she had requested. Lester had leered at her playfully and said that now he could honestly tell everybody that he had had his hands in her panties. Hal smacked him in the back of the head for that one and told him it was from Ranger.

Like a kid on Christmas morning, Stephanie's heart was pounding with anticipation and she was all but bouncing on the bed waiting for the wheelchair to come through the door. It took her a second to register that the people who stalked into her room and stood in front of her weren't hospital employees. Dressed in grey suits and top coats, the three men and a woman were stiff and unsmiling. They all pulled out their IDs in unison, and announced that they were Federal Agents, straight from Washington, D.C.

The lead suit announced, "Stephanie Plum, I have a Federal Warrant for your arrest on charges of Interference with a Federal Investigation. You have the right to remain silent, anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney, if you cannot afford …" Stephanie zoned out at that point, just looking up at Bobby in shock.

The wheelchair appeared, but instead of a trip to see Ranger, Stephanie was hauled to her feet and patted down by the female agent while the floor tipped under her feet. Her hands were cuffed to the chain that was locked around her waist and her feet were shackled together as if they were afraid that she was going to beat all four of them into a bloody pulp before she made her escape. Before she had a chance to ask a question or say a word, she was shoved down and landed painfully in the wheelchair, then pushed down the hall where they were met by a solid wall of Merry Men … very angry Merry Men.

Tank stepped forward to speak to the agent in charge, firing questions with machine gun speed. What were their names, who had issued the warrant, had Stephanie been released by her physician, where were they taking her, had she been allowed to call her lawyer. Stephanie sat stunned, watching their back and forth like a tennis match. She was having a hard time processing what was going on and almost panicked when she realized that she couldn't even raise her hands to wipe her teary eyes.

Hal knelt beside her and while he blotted her tears with his handkerchief, he whispered to her, "Don't talk to them, don't tell them anything, don't agree to any deals Steph, just keep asking for Haver Williamson. They have to let you talk to your lawyer. Do you understand? And ask for your own doctor, ask for Nikolas Ramos."

She nodded dumbly, "Haver and Niko," she repeated, still not quite grasping what was going on.

Hal smiled at her and jerked his head in the direction of another hospital room door. He stood and while the agents were distracted by the Rangemen, pushed the door open slowly. The patient lying on the bed turned his head … Ranger. He looked furious as he tugged at the cuffs holding his left wrist to the rail of his bed. His anger melted away when his eyes met hers and he mouthed, 'I love you, Babe.' Her heart lifted, and she just had time to mouth back, 'I love you, too' before the feds wheeled her into the elevator. The doors slid closed on a sea of solemn faced Merry Men and Stephanie had never felt so alone in all her life.

-4-

It was a short flight from Washington, D.C. and Stephanie's heart skipped a beat as the wheels of the Alexander Ramos' plane touched down at the small private airport. Who would have ever thought that she'd be this excited about coming back to Trenton? She leaned her head against her seat and watched the runway lights flash past her window. She was home! Relief washed over her and she blinked back the tears that pricked at her eyes, mentally scolding herself for being such a wuss.

She blew out a deep sigh and thought about everything that had happened in these last five weeks. Probably she'd been better off waking up in the hospital with those big chunks of time missing, the ones that the Merry Men filled in for her. Unfortunately, she hadn't missed a single frustrating, infuriating, exasperating second of the time that she had spent at Club Fed.

By the time her federal escort had delivered her to D.C. the charges against her had been dropped. Big surprise! The same four agents who had been cold enough to freeze over hell when they arrested her, now told her that out of great concern for her health and well being, she would be held as a Federal Witness … in protective custody … held incommunicado … for her own safety … of course. It had taken just about that long for her shock to wear off and anger to set in.

Stephanie had been locked up for the longest five weeks of her life in the bureaucratic hell of a 'secure' medical facility, as a 'guest' of the federal government. She'd learned a whole new vocabulary, courtesy of the feds. No matter how they sugar coated it, 'secure' meant the place was surrounded by barbed wire and armed guards in towers, and 'guest' meant she had a bed in a room and a door that locked ... from the outside! They probably paid somebody big bucks to come up with that federal 'speak' crap … your tax dollars at work!

Held 'incommunicado' was another good one. It was just a fancy way of saying solitary confinement. It meant no TV, no radio, no newspapers, no magazines, no books, no phone calls, no visitors, no nothing. The Feds were punishing her for sticking her nose in where it didn't belong … showing her who was boss. _Well_, Stephanie thought childishly, _they aren't the boss of ME! _

Of course, she was still supposed to be recovering from her injuries, and she used the time to catch up on her sleep, or tried to. The worst part of being in federal detention was not knowing about Ranger, where he was, how he was. Her imagination ran wild and every worst case scenario played through her mind on a continuous loop. She was plagued by nightmares to the point that she almost hated to close her eyes. She had no appetite, which was not a bad thing in this case, since the food they served her was unidentifiable. The feds had no clue who they were dealing with, though, and Stephanie was determined that they wouldn't break her.

She had dealt with feebs before. They always thought they were smarter than everybody else and nobody could possibly figure out that they were playing games because they were just so slick. Idiots! She figured it must be against some federal rule for them to be upfront about stuff or just tell you what they wanted. That's what the feds were trying to do with this solitary confinement garbage. They were trying to wear her down or soften her up. But all they really did was piss her off. _They had no clue who they're screwing with, _Stephanie realized, _I think it's about time they all meet Stephanie Plum!_

The feds showed up to question her, or at least they tried, but she asked for her lawyer. So they smiled said that they'd 'debrief' her instead, no lawyer necessary. "Nope," she said, "I still want my lawyer, and my doctor, too." She was really starting to enjoy herself; she found it very satisfying that she apparently had a gift for making cool, calm, collected federal suits turn red in the face and stroke out. Then they pulled out the big guns, they threatened her with prison, but hell, she was already there. It was a standoff.

Finally, she woke up one morning to find Haver Williamson, RangeMan's legal counsel, standing at the foot of her bed. She'd never been so happy to see anyone in her life and later, when her cell door was unlocked and Niko Ramos strolled in, she finally gave in to her bottled up emotions and cried like a baby.

Between Niko angrily demanding her release because she had received substandard medical care and Haver threatening to charge the feebs with violations of her civil rights, a deal was worked out. Stephanie would testify against all of Ramon and Yuri's men when they were brought to trial, in exchange for her immediate release, which was probably what the feds wanted in the first place. After all the weeks of game playing, in two hours she was on a plane headed home.

Watching the plane descend over Trenton, it seemed to Stephanie that she had been gone for forever and it felt like she'd had every muscle in her body clinched the entire time she was away… like she had been holding her breath, waiting to exhale. It was almost painful to finally let herself go, to relax and breathe again. Dorothy in the Wizard of Oz was right, there really was no place like home.

-5-

Stephanie had been home for weeks and she still hadn't heard directly from Ranger. Haver and Niko carried messages back and forth for them and everybody made sure that she was kept up to date on what was going on. But she still ached to hear his voice, to find out where they stood, what would happen between the two of them. She felt like she was in limbo, somehow suspended between heaven and hell.

Haver had handed her over to the Merry Men, then he turned around and went right back to Washington to represent Ranger and Hector. Their debriefings would be a totally different kind of hell from hers, especially since most of the government's case depended on their eyewitness accounts and testimony. The feebs needed Ranger and Hector and had given them federal witness status, too, but fortunately for everyone concerned, they knew better than to try to intimidate those two men.

Niko kept regular tabs on her, taking her to dinner and down the Shore to visit with Alexander. He kept her updated on Ranger's rapid physical recovery after the reversal surgery that had removed all traces of Ramon, assuring her that Ranger looked like Ranger again. Another surgeon, an ophthalmic specialist, had removed the false lens on his eye, and except for some temporarily blurred vision, everything was fine. All Stephanie could really do now was sit and wait for Ranger to come back. Unfortunately for Stephanie, patience had never been one of her virtues.

As soon as she had felt up to it, Lula had taken her over to Mr. Alexander who had 'tut-tutted' over how she had mistreated her crowning glory, and then had returned her to the curly haired brunette she had always been. She went shopping or to the movies or dinner with Connie and Lula and Mary Lou. Joe came by and brought Pino's and they'd watch a game, the Merry Men took her to Shorty's and dropped by with donuts. Stephanie and Jeanne Ellen went out looking for office space for their agency and she went to dinner every Sunday at her parents' house. Life was returning to normal … sort of.

When Hector returned to Trenton and showed up, unannounced, on her doorstep, she flung herself at him, nearly knocking them both down the front steps. He was chatty and upbeat and exhausted. He seemed to be amazed to still be alive, thanks, he said, to her … happy to be back at RangeMan, talked about the long vacation he was going to take, and he carefully avoided any mention of Ranger.

When Hector finally ran out of chit chat, an uncomfortable silence stretched between them. Stephanie took a deep breath, "Okay Hector, what's going on? I know there's something, so you might as well just spill it and get it over with." She sounded so calm and in control of herself, but her hands were shaking.

Hector heaved a deep sigh. "It's not bad, Steph. Ranger is fine, honestly! But I think he needs a little time to himself, to convince himself that Ramon is gone for good. I think that he's worried that his persona is simmering just below the surface and that if he lets his self control slip, he'll turn into Ramon again. Ranger doesn't want to bring that back here. He doesn't want to be anyone but Ranger when he comes back."

Stephanie's heart sank and little black dots danced across her field of vision. She tried go breathe and focused on her hands, clinched in her lap, until the dots disappeared. "Where is he going? For how long?"

"We don't know, Steph. I don't think he knows either," Hector said sympathetically.

"We? Who's 'we'?" Her voice had an edge to it that she didn't recognize … anger, maybe?

"Ranger sent word to Tank. He just said that he wouldn't be back for a while and Tank and the guys should take care of RangeMan … and you."

"Oh Great!" she said bitterly. "So he's pawning me off on his employees again until he can figure out what to do with me, huh? Good to know where I stand with him. You guys still get extra pay for that?" She ran her hand over her face, swiping away her tears.

"Jesus, Steph, no!" Hector got up out of his chair and squatted down in front of her, taking her icy hands in his. "He told me that he was going to come and tell you himself. We, Tank and I, thought that you should have a heads up, just so that you'd know what was going on."

"Where is he now?"

"I don't know, Steph. We had dinner and he told me that he thought he needed to get away from everything, just so he could get himself centered again. The next morning he was gone. Nobody knows where."

"Well, thanks for letting me know Hector. I appreciate it, really I do. Um …" she got up out of her chair and went toward the front door, "I have a lot of stuff I have to do, so I … I better get busy. You understand, right? Thanks a lot for stopping by and I'll see you soon."

She all but shoved him out onto the steps and slammed the door behind him, then went back into the living room and curled up in the big, overstuffed chair, pulled the soft chenille throw around her, and cried until she had no more tears left in her.

-6-

Stephanie got out of the shower and wrapped a bath towel around herself, tucking the tail of it between her breasts, and looked at herself in the bathroom mirror as she towel dried her hair and then finger combed her curls. It felt good to look almost like her old self again and even better to _feel_ almost like her old self, except now, she had high maintenance hair again.

She knew that she was still too thin, but she didn't have any appetite. She found herself eating salads instead of birthday cake. How bizarre was that? Probably she was just channeling Ranger, she decided, as she slathered moisturizer all over herself, trying not to think about how much she missed him. Probably when he came back she'd fall into all those bad eating habits again, TastyKakes and Boston Crèmes and pineapple upside down cake. Probably.

She chose a Tiffany blue satin nightshirt to sleep in, having to give up boxers and tank tops. Anything elastic around her waist irritated the spot where the bullet had lodged in her back. Niko assured her that pretty soon, he'd be able to take care of the scar tissue and she'd never even be able to tell that she had been shot. Too bad he couldn't erase the memories for her as easily as he could the scars.

Stephanie flipped off the bathroom light and walked out into the bedroom, turning the comforter back on the big lonely bed and slipping in between the silky sheets. Lying there in the dark, watching the rain fling itself against the bedroom windows, the drops exploded against the glass like tiny little fragments of light. She wondered what would happen when Ranger came back, if he came back. It had been almost a week since Hector had been there, and still no word from Ranger. Would they ever be able to pick up the pieces and put their life back together again? Would he even still want her? The questions went round and round in her brain before she finally fell into an exhausted, dream filled sleep.

She knew he was there in her room before she even opened her eyes, could feel him watching her in the dark. She turned over and searched the room for him, finding him sprawled in the chair in the corner, his long legs stretched out in front of him, a duffle bag and leather jacket on the floor by the door.

"Hey stranger," she said softly. "I've been waiting for you."

Ranger leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees. "I'm sorry, Babe. I should have called you as soon as I was released from custody."

"Yeah, you should have." She whispered because it was so hard to talk around the lump in her throat. All she really wanted to do was run across the room and wrap herself around him.

He nodded slightly. "I couldn't say what I had to say to you on the phone, Babe, and it took me a while to get here."

It was her turn to nod. "What's so terrible that you have to tell me face to face?"

He took a deep breath, "I'm going away, Stephanie, I need some time alone." He looked down at his hands, like he was trying to choose his words carefully. "I feel like I still have Ramon lurking in the back of my head, waiting to invade our lives. I let him hurt you once and I can't ever let that happen again. I have to make sure that he really is dead and gone. I have to find out if I can trust myself again." He looked up at her then, and met her eyes. "Can you understand that?"

She swallowed hard and blinked back the tears in her eyes. "I don't have much choice, do I? Any idea how long you'll be gone?"

He shook his head again. "As long as it takes, I guess."

"And what happens then, to us I mean?"

"I suppose we'll just have to wait and see." Stephanie could hear the melancholy in his voice.

She lay there for several long moments, fighting the tears she was determined not to let him see, and then she held out her hand to him.

Ranger unfolded out of the chair, stepping into the dim light that filtered through the curtains. Her eyes never left his face as he slowly crossed the room to her. All the scars were gone, replaced by a thin line, almost unnoticeable in the darkness of the bedroom, his lips perfect, and his eye undamaged. He was Ranger again, only different. He'd lost a lot of his bulk and weight so that he'd look more like Ramon. Added to that, the toll that his injuries, the long hospital stay and the debriefing had taken on him was clearly visible.

Ranger sat on the edge of her bed and took her hand in both of his, running his fingertips over her knuckles, uncurling her fingers to brush a kiss in her palm. He leaned across her, bracing himself over her on one arm, just watching her for a minute before reaching out to wrap a curl around his finger, tugging on it gently before he tucked it behind her ear. He smiled then, "I missed your curly hair, Babe, and your blue eyes." He ran the tip of his fingers across her lips and her tongue flicked out to lick them. He fixated on her mouth, "And your mouth…"

He leaned down and kissed her then, touching her mouth so gently, it was like a whisper across her lips, leaving her wanting more. Stephanie wound her hands around the back of his neck and pulled him down so she could fuse her mouth to his, hungry and demanding. She slid her tongue between his lips, colliding with his, tempting and teasing him, her hands running over his shoulders and down his back, feeling the coiled muscles through the fabric of his shirt as he slid his arms under her, arching her back and pressing her breasts against his chest.

Breathless, they broke the kiss, and Ranger pulled back to look into her eyes that mirrored his own passion and need. He dragged her up against him and kissed her again, hard and deep this time, his hand cupping her breast almost roughly, kneading it in rhythm with his tongue stabbing into her mouth. She shivered and gave herself over to the sensations that his hands and his mouth were causing, an ache that started low in her belly and spread outward to the tips of her fingers and the soles of her feet and the top of her head.

Heat radiated off of him, washing over her in waves, soaking into her and streaking along every nerve, setting her body on fire. It had been so long since she had felt like this, she thought, and she molded herself against him, wanting nothing more than to be absorbed into him, become a part of him, so that he couldn't leave her ever again. Frantically, she pulled at his shirt, trying to free it from his jeans, desperate for the feel of his naked skin against hers.

It took her a few seconds to register that his hands were gripping her shoulders, his fingers flexing, biting into her, and he put her away from him, holding her at arm's length. He let her go to stand up and cross the room, putting distance between them. Scrubbing his hands over his face and running his fingers through his hair, he turned his head back toward the bed, but didn't look at her. "Gotta go," he said flatly, and he picked up his duffle and jacket.

-7-

Ranger walked to the door and was reaching for the knob when something in her snapped. She was out of bed and across the room in a heartbeat, standing a few steps behind him. "If you walk out on me like this _again_, I won't be here when you get back!" her calm, firm voice belying her inner turmoil.

He hesitated, but didn't turn around to look at her. "Sorry you feel that way."

She stood behind him, talking to his back, trembling with the emotion of it all. "Bullshit! What is it with you and bedrooms? I've watched you walk out on me without even saying good-bye too damn many times, Ranger. After 'The Deal' you got out of my bed and left without so much as a backward glance, like I was no more than some ho you picked up on a corner. And I forgave that. And then you discarded me, you threw me out like _trash_, to take on the Lazarus Mission. You walked out of the bedroom and you never looked back. I know, because I watched. And I forgave that, too." She clinched her teeth to hold the tears at bay. "And now you're gonna do it again? I don't think so! It's my turn to walk away."

She tried to shove past him, to open the door and to escape first, but he dropped his jacket and duffle and pinned her against the smooth wood with his weight, his chest against her back, trapping her. He bent his head and buried his face in her hair. She struggled against him, needing to get away before she broke down in tears.

"I couldn't look at you," he said softly. "I wouldn't have been able to leave if I had. I wasn't trying to hurt you, I love you."

He leaned back a little, giving her enough room to turn around to face him. He didn't know what he expected, a tirade, a slap, but she surprised him by sliding her arms around his waist and laying her head on his shoulder. "Then show me, Ranger," she whispered, her lips moving against his neck. "Say good-bye like you love me." She felt his body stir against her, and she smiled and kissed his neck, making him shudder.

She sucked in a breath when he stepped back and grabbed a fistful of his shirt, hauling it over his head, and she saw the horrible scar on his side. She reached out to touch his bare chest, running her fingers down over his abs, lingering on the scar from the stab wound, the puckered skin making her painfully aware of how close they had come to really losing each other. He distracted her by toeing off his boots and shucking his jeans, proving just how much he really wanted her.

Ranger touched the collar of her satin nightshirt, "Pretty," he said softly, and her nipples contracted as he grasped the neckline and tore the shirt open, sending the tiny satin covered buttons flying, skittering across the floor. Bending his head, he took her mouth again as he stripped the nightshirt down her arms, letting it slide down her body to pool on the floor. His hands followed the path of the satin, drifting over her skin like the fine fabric had. His fingertips grazed the surgical scar on her back where the bullet had been removed, her hissed in breath telling him that the spot was still tender.

Stephanie stepped in to him so that they were chest to chest, her nipples hardening almost painfully as they skimmed his naked skin. She let her mouth slide across his jaw to his throat and ran her tongue down the corded muscles to the spot where his neck and shoulder met, just savoring the taste of him. Tracing small circles with the tip of her tongue on that sensitive spot drew a groan from deep in his chest and she reveled in how powerful she felt. Sucking his skin into her mouth, marking him deeply, she wished she could brand him as hers for all the world to see.

He pulsed against her when she ran her nails down his chest, teasing his nipples, and his muscles tightened as she outlined his abs with her tongue. When she sank to her knees in front of him she could feel tremors of anticipation rock him, and he growled when she nuzzled the line of fine black hair that ran, arrow straight, down from his navel. He was looking down at her, his eyes hooded and black with lust as she tortured him with licks and nips and kisses and she watched as his head fell back and he exhaled a soft 'Ahhhhh' at the silken swirl of her tongue when she finally took his hard, thick shaft in her mouth.

"Jesus, Stephanie," he murmured, as he laced his fingers into her hair and pulled himself away from her mouth, dragging her to her feet. He drew a ragged breath, "I don't think that I can go slow …"

She licked her lips as wantonness shot through her veins like fire. "Slow is always good," she whispered breathlessly, "but sometimes hard and fast is better." Every cell in her body quivered at the thought of hard and fast and Ranger.

"Good to know," and he fused his greedy mouth to hers, stealing her breath away. He wrapped his arms around her waist and picked her up, carrying her to the bed and falling onto it with her.

She moaned at how good he felt, his weight pressing her into the mattress, his talented mouth and hands everywhere at once. He ravaged her mouth and marked her neck, kissed the swell of her aching breasts, and sucked hard on her nipples, driving her crazy with need. Her hips shot up off the bed when he slid his fingers into her hot, slick center and she whimpered at the loss when he withdrew them. She spread her legs, opening herself to him in an invitation that he accepted, and she gasped as he filled her with one sure stroke, not giving her a second to adjust to his size. The friction of his movements overwhelmed her, her body tightening, her focus narrowing to only the feel of him thrusting into her and pulling out, again and again, harder, faster, spiraling out of control until she shattered into a million tiny glittering fragments like the raindrops that had splashed against her windows. She felt him explode a few seconds later, collapsing slack limbed on top of her, his lips next to her ear, whispering words of love.

They made love more slowly the next time, delighting in each touch and taste, their orgasms as intense as the first. Hours later, in the shower, standing under the warm water, her palms pressed against the tile, his hands gliding over her breasts and belly, she tried to memorize the feel of him as he slid into her. Her head fell back on her shoulder and he kissed her with as much greed and hunger as he had the first time. Each time was always like the first time, full of passion and wonder and surprise, and she wanted to hold onto it. She tried to remember the feel of his body sliding against hers, of him moving inside of her, of his arms around her, before it slipped away, maybe forever.

-8-

Then he left. Stephanie stood at the bay window in the living room and watched him walk down the steps to the sidewalk. He stopped under the streetlight in front of her house and turned to look up at her, staring into her eyes for a moment, then turned the collar of his jacket up against the misty rain and disappeared into the dark. She watched him walk through the puddles of light from the lamps in the little pocket park across the street, his head down, duffle bag on his shoulder. He stopped in the light at the corner and looked back at her again. He looked so lonely that her heart broke for him; it broke for herself, too. She was as lonely as he was. She pressed her hand against the glass, and he raised his briefly, then stepped out of the light, and was gone. At least he turned to look at her, she thought. At least she got her backward glance.

Days bled into weeks and weeks became months and still no Ranger. Occasionally a postcard came in the mail, Canada, Texas, California, Montana … always the same message, 'Love, R,' nothing else.

She had stopped haunting Tank, hoping for some scrap of news. Hal had gone back to his job and apartment at RangeMan, and she and Rex were alone in the house. Stephanie had stopped hanging out with the Merry Men, it was just too painful. She couldn't stop her brain though, much as she tried. She wondered if maybe Ranger had found a new life for himself and had decided not to come back to Trenton at all.

Stephanie threw herself into work at Burrows and Plum Investigations, spending long hours there. She and Jeanne Ellen had set up shop in office space close to the Court House and police station. They were making a name for themselves and were starting to get some insurance investigation cases. All in all, their business was a success and Stephanie should have been happy. Instead she felt like she was at loose ends, waiting to get on with her life, waiting for Ranger to come back, or rather, hoping Ranger would come back.

She had just finishing yet another peanut butter and olive sandwich dinner when her cell phone rang. She looked at the Caller ID and saw that it was Haver. Her stomach dropped. This couldn't be good. Why would RangeMan's lawyer be calling her?

"Hi Haver," she tried to sound chipper. "What can I do for you?"

"Hello Steph, how are you," his soft Southern drawl made her smile. "I need you to stop by RangeMan tomorrow, if you can. I'm collecting information, and I could use your help. I understand that Miss Ella is making lunch for all of us."

Stephanie looked at the remains of her dinner and tossed it in the trash. "I guess, Haver. What's the meeting about?"

"Well now, you know that during the Lazarus Mission, Ranger was declared legally dead. None of the federal agencies saw fit to make sure that declaration was reversed, so it appears that it's up to us to prove that he's still alive. I'll need sworn statements from everyone."

"Okay, I'll be there." Stephanie hesitated a second, then asked, "Have you heard anything from him?"

She heard Haver sigh heavily, "I'm sorry Stephanie. He hasn't gotten in touch with me."

It was her turn to sigh. "See you tomorrow."

The next morning, Stephanie parked her car across the street from the RangeMan building. She still couldn't bring herself to pull into the garage, to see Ranger's cars, to flashback to what her life had been here. Grabbing her purse, she crossed the street and went through the front door, like a client. It was easier on her heart that way.

She didn't even make it into the front door before her whole body started to hum. Since he had walked away from her, she had felt like she was in limbo, like she had been holding her breath, waiting to see what would happen. She had to be on serious emotional overload if simply coming to the building made her react this way, she thought.

Three minutes later, Haver was escorting her into the conference room. Tank and Lester and Bobby and Hector were already there, waiting for her. Just being in the building was taking an emotional toll on her.

"Stephanie," Haver said, reaching across the conference table to take her hand, "before we get started, there's something I need you to do."

Haver and Tank exchanged a quick glance, and the other Merry Men looked at anything but her, making her instantly suspicious. Haver took a deep breath and hurried on. "I know this won't be easy, and I wouldn't ask if it weren't absolutely necessary."

"What?" was all she could get out because her heart was lurching in her chest.

"I need all of Ranger's personal papers, his birth certificate, passport, service record, driver's license, all of those kind of things."

Stephanie looked and felt confused. "Why are you asking me? I don't have them." She turned to look at Tank.

Tank cleared his throat, clearly unhappy about the whole thing. "It's all in the safe in the apartment, Steph."

Oh God! She closed here eyes and bit her lip. She remembered when the safe was installed … biometric, they called it. It could only be opened using Ranger's thumb print … or hers. It had been poured right into the concrete wall when the penthouse was remodeled, so the safe couldn't come to her … she had to go to the safe.

She wrapped her arms around herself and slumped in her chair, suddenly freezing cold and strangely exhausted. Every time she thought she was past all this, something new came up to slap her in the face. Everyone knew that she hadn't been back to the apartment since the day Ranger threw her out. Hell, this was only the second time she'd been back to RangeMan at all.

Going back up there would be like visiting her own grave. Rationally, she knew that it had all been an act, that Ranger had hurt as much as she had, that he was trying to protect her, that he still loved her … maybe. But emotionally, well, that was different. If she went up there, she would relive that morning, hear the words, see him turn his back as he walked away, and she didn't think that she was strong enough to go through that again. She looked up at the ceiling as if she could see into the apartment from where she was sitting.

"Can't …" her voice cracked, "can't you wait for him to come back? Does it have to be now?" She asked, knowing full well that if they could have waited for Ranger, they would have.

"Do you want me to go up with you?" Haver asked, but she just shook her head.

She swallowed hard. "I don't have keys. He told me to leave them… that morning."

Tank slid a keychain with a fob across the table and she looked at it as if it were going to bite her, then grabbed it and stood up, headed for the door. It wasn't her keychain; it didn't have the little silver tag engraved with her name, 'Babe', on it. It was just a generic set of keys that didn't belong to anybody. They were safe, they didn't hold any memories.

Stephanie walked down the hall to the elevator by herself and only hesitated a second when the elevator doors slid open. She got on and pointed the fob at the control panel, just like she had done a million times before, and waited while the car rose to the seventh floor. See? She told herself, she had to stop being a wuss. She could handle this just fine. Except when the doors opened on seven, her feet wouldn't move and she had to force herself to get off the elevator.

She stood there, looking around, feeling like she was having an out of body experience, and jumped when the elevator doors snapped shut behind her. She took a deep breath and blew it out and marched over to the apartment door and tried to put the key in the lock, but her hands were shaking so hard that she dropped them, twice. Finally, she got the door unlocked; now all she had to do was turn the knob and push. Why did that seem like such a Herculean effort?

-9-

_Oh just do it, Stephanie!_ she told herself. _Stop being so dramatic and just get it over with!_ She should listen to herself more often, she decided, and pushed the door open and stepped into the apartment. It was cool and calm, just like it had always been, but something was different. It took a moment until she realized that it smelled closed up and dusty.

She automatically turned to drop the keys in the silver dish on the sideboard and saw that the fresh flowers Ella put there every day were long dead; their dried petals lying like faded confetti on the dusty wood.

Her keys and gun and phone and ID were laid out neatly, exactly where she had left them that last morning, as if they hadn't been touched. She moved down the hall and glanced into the kitchen. The pieces of Rex's cage were stacked right where she had put them, the kitchen towel still on the counter. The living room looked sad and unlived in, everything covered in a thick layer of dust. The same magazines that she had straightened all those months ago were angled on the coffee table.

The empty picture frame that she had left on Ranger's desk still lay in the same spot, and when she finally brought herself to go into the bedroom, tears welled in her eyes and spilled down her cheeks. She had made the bed that morning, sweeping her hand over the comforter to smooth it … those marks were still there. The dresser drawer that held all those beautiful blue Tiffany jewelry cases was still slightly ajar, the wad of hundred dollar bills that Ranger had left for her still sat where he had tossed it on dresser.

All of their clothes still hung in the closet, just like always. Nothing had changed. Her dresses danced with his suits, his shirts hugged her blouses, their shoes touched each other on the floor. She looked at herself in the bathroom mirror and realized that the whole time she had been here in the apartment she'd had a death grip on the pearl. It was her talisman, it kept her heart safe.

It was like the whole apartment was frozen in time, like the clock had just … stopped. Ranger obviously hadn't lived here after she left. It didn't look like anyone had even been in here once she had closed the door that last time. It was like a still life of the last minutes of their life together. Sadness over what they had once shared washed over her, making her chest ache. She couldn't seem to take a deep breath.

She sank down and sat on the edge of the bed … their bed, and looked around her. She had been so happy, so in love with Ranger and their life together … she had to wonder if she'd ever be happy again. These days she was just … numb, just going through the motions. She wasn't happy … she wasn't unhappy, either. She wasn't anything, and that was the scary part.

Maybe Ranger had the right idea, taking off and getting away from everything. Maybe it was time for her to do the same thing? Could she just walk away? There really wasn't anything to keep her here in Trenton except her mother and father. Her friends would understand … yeah, maybe that's what she needed to do.

Stephanie opened her eyes and looked around her. She had fallen asleep, curled up on the bottom of the bed. The room was getting dark and she realized that she must have been up here for hours while Haver and the guys waited for those papers. She got up and went into the closet, opened the safe and grabbed everything that was in there and made for the front door.

As she went down the hall, Stephanie could see that there was a light on in the kitchen. She hadn't noticed it before, but she ducked in to turn it off anyway, and stopped in the doorway, frozen in shock. The papers that she held in her hands drifted to the floor, unnoticed, as she stared at the kitchen counter.

There, sitting on the counter, under a task light, was a brown bear cookie jar. It couldn't have been there when she came in, she thought, she was sure she would have seen it. It wasn't until she stood right in front of it that she realized that it was _her _brown bear cookie jar, saved from the street and painstakingly pieced together. There were little pieces missing here and there, a big chip on his nose, a part of the blue bow tied around his neck, a chunk out of his ear. But it was her brown bear cookie jar, back where it belonged.

Her heart clutched in her chest and her breath came out in a sob. Very gently, so as not to wake herself up from the dream, because she knew that's what this had to be, she slid the brown bear toward her and holding her breath, gently lifted the lid to look inside. TastyKakes, it was filled with TastyKakes just like it had always been.

Before her first tear fell, the familiar tingle shot down her spine and she spun around to find him. He was leaning in the doorway, tall and tanned and perfect, his mirrored sunglasses pushed up on his head, watching her.

She took a couple of steps toward him and stopped, pointing over her shoulder at the cookie jar. "Did you …?"

"Yeah, I needed to try to repair it," he said, his eyes never leaving her as he pushed off the doorway and came toward her.

"That must have been hard to do," and she swiped at the tears that slid down her cheeks.

"Putting things back together is never easy," he hesitated for a few seconds. "Sometimes the pieces don't fit anymore."

"We're not talking about the cookie jar, are we?" she asked him.

"No, Babe," he answered quietly. "We're not."

She took another step or two, "So, are you okay?"

"I am now," he said with a small smile and came closer.

She took one more step and swallowed hard. "Are you home for good?" she barely whispered.

He met her in the middle of the kitchen and held out his hand, "Only if you are, Babe. It's only home if you're here with me."

She flung herself into his arms, the past evaporating into thin air and their future stretching out in front of them. They were happy and in love, and just like the cookie jar, they were back where they belonged.

"Welcome home, Babe," he gave her a 500 watt smile as he hugged her to him. "I think we should have ourselves a Welcome Home party."

She gave him a wicked little smile as she snaked her arms around his neck. "And I know just how to start the celebration!"

By the time they made it to the bedroom, they were breathless and overjoyed and naked, the laughter bubbling up out of them like champagne and they were both drunk on happiness.

They spent the night wecoming each other home … over and over again. (A little dust never hurt anybody!)

Ranger and Stephanie were friends and lovers and partners, and they had all the time in the world.

-10-

And They Loved Happily Ever After!

The Very End!

_**A/N: This isn't the ending I had planned for Game**__**, but that would mean another chapter. Insert eye roll here The original ending will be the beginning of the third story in the series, Killing Him Softly. They vacation in Greece, swim, eat, make love, have fun … I live vicariously through these characters and I can't wait to get to Greece!**_

_**I need a **__**little break from the angst though, and I'm gonna try to write something a little lighter for a change with What I Did For Love. I'll start it after FF is released and we're all gonna need some happy after that. I've read the Advanced Reader Copy of FF. **_

_**Thank you for all of your support and encouragement, and of course, your wonderful reviews. Game wouldn't be what it is without each and every one of you. I appreciate you all more than you'll ever know. **_

_**Also thank you for reading and reviewing from Ranger and Steph and Niko and Alexander and Tank and all the Merry Men. Even the bad guys say Thanks! They love you all!**_

_**Don't forget to read and review Kashy's (akasha) latest, These Days! **_

_**Stayce**_


End file.
